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bjames (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bjames) wrote,@ 2010-10-25 20:12:00 |
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Bradley and louis_garneau: Reunion
Players Only. A week and a half after their last date.
Bradley is pacing.
He knows he's early. He knows he's *really* early, and that Louis had said he'd be going in to the office after landing in France, and that they'd meet here in the evening. In the flat that Bradley has, illogically, found himself missing intensely in the nine days Louis has been gone. The sun had only just started setting when he'd parked the car, and he'd let himself into the flat, made himself a cup of tea, and puttered around a little. Browsed through the contents of Louis's closet, appreciating the gorgeous tailoring of Louis's clothes.
But now he's exhausted the entertainment potential, and he just wants Louis to get here already. It's evening, dammit. They hadn't set a solid time, but surely Louis has been at the office for hours now, and is ready to knock off for the night? Bradley contemplates calling, even pulls out his phone, but then shoves it back into his pocket. Too needy, he decides. Too impatient. They've only had a couple of dates, after all.
He continues on pacing.
His quick check-in at the office had turned into much more, not that he shouldn't have known it would, and Louis had finally had to drag himself away, promising he would deal with everything tomorrow, right away, the moment he gets in. Jet-lagged and now stressed from having to struggle to get away, Louis takes the twists and turns down to Sarlat proper a little faster than he should, only the ribbons and stuffed toys on a tree at one particularly sharp corner reminding him that he won't be seeing Bradley at all if he crashes. That in mind, he slows down, eases into town, and finds a parking spot fairly close to his place. He's still in his suit, the same one he'd worn on the plane, and he feels less than his usual impeccable self but he could care less and he hopes Bradley feels the same way, because right now, all he wants to do is see him, touch him. God help him if the boy's not at his place already.
But there's lights on, lights he knows he turned off before he leaves, and the housekeeper never forgets to turn off, and with an extra bounce in his step, he covers the last stretch to the door, keys already out and in the lock the moment he reaches it. And then he's bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time...
Bradley hears the door open, pounding of feet coming up the stairs fast, and every inch of him comes awake and alert. He's already moving, huge smile on his face, when Louis tops the stairs and steps into the huge, open space of the loft.
"Hey there," he says softly, coming to a stop and just letting his eyes feast. Louis looks good enough to eat. Even better, impossibly, than Bradley'd imagined, remembered while having a wank, dreamed about. He's a little strained around the eyes, tired lines deeper around his mouth, but he's *gorgeous* and Bradley can't wait to get his hands on him. "Have a good trip?" Inane, but he can't even think straight right now, much less make clever conversation.
"Yes, but I missed you," Louis says, not caring how he sounds. He stands there for a moment, taking Bradley in, his heart beating wildly, then closes the distance between them, reaching out and pulling the boy in tight up against him, kissing him, his mouth hard and hungry. They can talk later.
"Missed you too," Bradley gets out and then Louis's mouth is crashing down on his, hands hard and pulling him in *so* tight and he's doing the same. His hands are frantic, suddenly, running all over Louis as he sucks desperately on his tongue. Memorizing the taste and feel of him all over again. "God, missed you *so much,*" he gasps out as Louis's mouth moves to his neck, then back to his mouth. It's like they're both starving and cannot possibly get close enough.
"I've been thinking about this since I left," Louis says with a smile, pulling back only enough to tug Bradley's shirt over his head, get his hands on his skin, fingers dipping below the loose waistband of the boy's jeans as he kisses him, again and again, bruisingly hard, his cock already heavy and aching.
"Haven't been able to stop thinking about it either," Bradley breathes, lifting his hands so his shirt can come off, arching his back so Louis can get more fingers inside his jeans, basically doing anything he can to get closer, closer, as close as he can. He's plastered against Louis from knees to chest, can feel the rigid length of Louis's cock where it's bumping into his belly, and there are little shivers already running down his spine.
He's read bits of the book that Louis gave him. He's been unable to *stop* reading bits of that book. Going mostly on instinct, still, he puts his hands on Louis's hips, slides down his body, and lands on his own knees. Hands on Louis's thighs, still, stroking and petting, and he looks up at him. The view is incredible. Incredible. His heart is about to beat out of his chest, and he licks his lips, meeting Louis's eyes.
"I want you, so much," he confesses hoarsely. "I want you to fuck me, hurt me again. *PLEASE.*" It's artless and utterly sincere, raw and desperately needy.
Mon dieu. Louis is frozen in place, the sight stealing his breath away, his cock throbbing so hard it's a wonder he doesn't come right there and then. He's seen so many boys on their knees in his life, so many, their faces, the memories blending together, but this, this is altogether different. He closes his eyes, a moment of calm, of silent meditation in the midst of the storm, and then opens them again, his voice rough when he speaks. "Get up. Bend over the table," he orders, completely ignoring the bed right beside them.
Bradley's heart nearly stops, then hammers on twice as hard. He leaps to his feet, scrambling to obey, and it's only a few short steps to the table. Shaking, he leans over it, braced on his hands, head hanging down between his shoulders from where he's propped up. It's just at hip-height, too. Perfect. The old wood is warm and smooth against his palms and he tries to take a few steadying breaths, not knowing what's coming.
Louis doesn't bother with his jacket, with his tie, hell, with anything except getting his belt unbuckled, his trousers open and his cock freed. Within seconds he's got a condom on, a packet of lube at the ready, and his hands are back on Bradley, his body pressed close as he unfastens his belt and jeans from behind, pushing them and his underwear down over his hips, his erection pressing between the boy's still faintly-bruised cheeks. "Tell me again," he whispers, hands stroking over Bradley's chest, fingers pinching and twisting his nipples. "Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you."
The heat of Louis's cock burns against Bradley's crack, hard and demanding and just not enough. Not even close. Bradley sighs a little with pleasure as Louis twists his nipples, arches his back, pushes his hips up and back and demandingly into the cradle of Louis's pelvis. "So much," he gasps. "All I could think about was how it felt, how it hurt me so good, your cock's so big and when it pushes in, the way it burns..." he whimpers a little, running out of words. His own cock rubs against the wood of the table with every move he makes, and he's already so hard he's leaving streaks of pre-come there.
Louis's cock throbs, throbs hard at the words, pulsing hotly between Bradley's cheeks and he glances at the packet, laid there on the table, hesitating for only a moment before he decides the lube on the condom will have to be enough. He drops one hand to his cock, lines up and starts pushing in, slowly, oh-so-slowly, making sure Bradley knows he's getting nothing but this.
Expecting fingers, Bradley shifts and shivers when the first thing he feels is the blunt, heavy nudge of Louis's cock against his hole. He's imagined this a hundred times since Louis left and now it's really happening, even more perfectly than he'd fantasized. Spreading his legs wider with a little moan, he braces himself, then hisses through his teeth at the sticky, burning shove that presses him open. He wants the burn, wants to feel this for days. The icy edge of pain that races up his spine has him moaning, pressing his cock against the table, seeking any friction he can find.
"Relax. Relax and open up for me," Louis demands, pushing a little harder, need overriding the desire to go slow, to ease the stretch, the burn, the pain. Cock half-way in, he gets his hand on the back of Bradley's neck, pushing him down, pinning him, forcing himself deeper, past any resistance.
Bradley's body is instinctively fighting the intrusion, tightening, clamping down, resisting. His hips buck and twist without his control, trying to escape, even as his cock goes even more rigid, as he moans louder. Louis's hand is hard, warm, solid on the back of his neck, pressing him down until he's flat on the table, arms buckling, and then he's no leverage at all, and the next brutal thrust has him screaming through his teeth.
It's nearly pure pain, now, almost no pleasure at all, but his brain is reading it all sideways, he thinks dizzily, endorphins rushing through him like a tide. It feels so good he's nearly blissing, even as he hears himself pant out choked little breaths as Louis works himself into his body, forcing in where he's still tight and closed. One more shove and he can feel Louis's belly against his back, soft balls against the curve of his buttocks, he's in to the root and Bradley's so filled he can barely breathe.
Buried deep, Louis stills, his cock throbbing, responding to the tight heat, to the soft velvet clench of Bradley's body. "So good," he murmurs, tongue thick in his mouth, his throat dry, the slightest movement threatening to send him over. He licks his lips and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling until the feeling passes then slowly draws back, almost all the way out, fingers gripping tighter on the nape of Bradley's neck, intent on keeping him right where he is. And then, looking down, watching the tip of his cock slip from Bradley's hole, he shoves in again, all the way in, with one solid thrust.
It hurts nearly as much going out as it did in, and Bradley tenses as he feels Louis leave his body. Then the thrust home, all the way in in one harsh stroke, and his back arches almost impossibly as he tries to lift up on his elbows, struggles for a long moment against the weight of Louis's hand on his neck, mouth open, not making a sound, struck silent by the intensity of it.
It's brilliant, it hurts, and this time Louis slammed right against his prostate on the way in, that lovely bundle of nerves that sets all of Bradley's hair on end when it's touched, shivering and goosebumped with pleasure. He turns his cheek to the table, hears the keening little moan he's making now, and lifts his hips again. Begging for more.
Louis groans, cock jerking sharply with the way Bradley lifts his hips to meet the next thrust. He slides his hand from Bradley's neck into his hair, tugging on it, pulling his head back as he pulls out and slams in again, even harder, using the grip for leverage. Angling his own hips to graze across his prostate.
As Bradley's body inevitably stretches, relaxes, gives to the pressure, the sharp sting fades, replaced by the slower-building heat of friction. Bradley whimpers, restless, wanting it back, and then feels Louis's cock prodding at his prostate, aim perfect, and nearly comes off the table with the jolt of pleasure. "Oh god yeah there right there," he's babbling now, words coming out slurred and heavy, whole body rocking against the table with the force of Louis's thrusts.
He's glad he'd thought ahead, jerked off twice today, or he'd have come long ago, and that would be a shame. Instead, he grits his teeth and meets every pounding thrust with a moan, a twist of his hips, anything to get more.
The path eased, Louis slams in even harder, hand tightening in Bradley's hair. Drives in again and again, holding nothing back, showing no mercy as he reams the boy open, his eyes flickering between where his cock's disappearing into Bradley's hole and Bradley's face, his cheek, his mouth open and panting and urging him on. Pleasure building and building, his orgasm delayed by sheer willlpower alone.
With one particularly vicious thrust, Louis slams into Bradley's prostate, and the pressure pinches his cock between his own body and the hard surface of the table. With a shocked gasp, then a cry, he's coming. Totally unexpected, no warning, the pain and pleasure push him over and he's jerking and shaking, whole body clamping down with the convulsions, which go on and on and on. So powerful he's whiting out, blinded by the flood of endorphins and the his own shocked neurons; his fingernails dig futilely for purchase on the tabletop as his hips buck and heave helplessly.
Louis curses loudly, Bradley's body clenching down tight on his cock, overriding that willpower in an instant. He spills into the latex, flooding it, hot and thick and heavy, aftershock after aftershock coursing through his frame, shaking him to the bone.
Even through the static of his own orgasm, the waves of pleasure, Bradley can tell Louis is coming. Just the knowledge sets off another aftershock, as he works his internal muscles almost instinctively, milking Louis's cock, keeping them both in the middle of the storm for just as long as he can before he finally relaxes, limp and exhausted, lying against the table and panting for breath. He feels like he's barely even conscious, just floating, every muscle loose and every nerve unstrung.
Finally letting go of Bradley's hair, Louis chuckles softly, dropping down to kiss the back of Bradley's shoulder, then stretching to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cock pushed deeper still. "Now that was a welcome home."
Bradley makes a small hurting sound as Louis's cock prods his tender insides as he shifts and moves, and the kisses are a delicious, soft counterpoint. He doesn't want to move, doesn't ever want to stop feeling this. The intensity of his desire for this, for *more*, is almost scary.
"Wouldn't want you to think you hadn't been missed," he croaks out, a little smile curling the corner of his mouth as he looks at Louis sideways, without moving. Not wanting anything to disturb them, though his thighs are aching with the stretch of his position over the table now, and his belly is sticky with his own cooling come."I'd imagined ten ways we might've ended up fucking inside ten minutes of you getting in the door. None were half as brilliant as this."
"Well then I'm very glad to hear I didn't disappoint," Louis murmurs, kissing Bradley one more time before he pushes up and eases out, stepping back so Bradley can get up as well. "Shower?" he asks, eyeing the mess smeared across Bradley's belly, his cock red, the skin indented where the table cut into it. "And then food? I didn't eat much on the plane," he says. "And I was too busy at work..."
Bradley holds very still as Louis withdraws. It feels like sandpaper, now, and yet he finds he doesn't mind, not at all. He's biting his lip hard enough to leave a dent; once Louis is gone from his body, he stands up very carefully, and reaches for the ceiling in a long, luxurious stretch.
He feels Louis's eyes on his cock. Realizes he's a mess, his trousers still around his ankles, and flushes a little.
"You're the only person I know who gets off a transAtlantic flight and goes straight in to the office," Bradley informs him, struggling to kick out of his shoes and trousers with some kind of grace. "I think a shower would be just the thing, and food...yeah, I was a bit too excited to pay much attention at supper, myself." His grin at Louis is just the tiniest bit shy. They haven't seen each other in ages, after all.
Louis runs a hand through his hair. "I didn't expect to actually get pulled into work. I was simply going to drop my things at my - I have quarters there as well," he says, unknotting and pulling his tie from his neck. He leans in and kisses Bradley again, his jacket shrugged from his shoulders and draped over the chair beside them. "Did you read the book?" he asks, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
"I read parts of it," Bradley answers. He's naked and watching Louis get naked, and could this night get any better? He thinks, no. "I had no idea there were so many ways to tie a person up. I skipped around, rather, there was a lot in there." He grins at Louis. "The kneeling part was brilliant, I thought. It's what gave me the idea. You liked that, yeah?" He's pretty sure, but he wants confirmation.
Louis nods. "Mais oui." He pushes his socks and shoes aside, and drops his underwear and trousers, draping them over the same chair with his jacket. And then he's pressing close, one hand on Bradley's hip, the other cupping the back of his neck. "You stole my breath away," he whispers, brushing their lips together.
"And you took mine..." Bradley breathes against his mouth. "I've yet to get it back altogether..." Ignoring the fact that he needs a shower, that the floor is chilling his feet, Bradley presses up and into the kiss as hard as he can, lining them up so as much of their bodies are touching as possible. He's starving for it, starving for the touch of Louis's skin on his own and those hands, one on his neck, right where it feels it belongs.
"I played about with a few things while you were away," he confesses when they next part to breathe. "Clothespins. A dildo. While I was wanking, I mean." It wasn't the same without Louis there, but even wanking without that brilliant pinch and bite of pain felt boring and flat.
"Clothespins?" Louis smiles, his softening cock jerking lightly. "How was that?" he asks, managing to nudge Bradley back, back, back until they're in the bathroom.
"It was...good," Bradley says, laughing and blushing, stepping backwards as Louis herds him towards the bath. He really does need a wash. "Not as fun without you, of course. *I* always took them off before they started hurting too much, and I can't fuck myself into raptures, during." He didn't just confine himself to his nipples, either, but he's not sure how to say that to Louis, and so just keeps it to himself.
"They're good when you have nothing else, but you can't really adjust the tension," Louis says, getting Bradley up against the glass door of the shower enclosure and reaching to turn the water on. "Not like with the clamps we used - which, by the way, can be put on your cock and your balls as well."
"O-oh..." Bradley stutters out, Louis's words mirroring his own thoughts of a moment before so closely that he's startled into near-speechlessness. "I, I had to take them off pretty quick, there, they were too tight." He's not looking at Louis as he confesses this. Or admitting how breathlessly hard it had made him in the moments before he'd had to take the pins off. The hot water hits him and he turns his face into it gratefully, letting it wash away his flush, his confusion, the sticky remnants of their amazing welcome-home sex.
"I can imagine," Louis says, his cock trying its very best to get hard again as his imagination works overtime, picturing Bradley in his hotel room, dildo in his ass and pins on his cock and balls. Looking utterly debauched. Mon dieu. "But you think you'd like that?" he asks, turning Bradley around and kissing him, the bar of soap suddenly in his hands and his hands all over the boy.
"Oh god yes," Bradley answers, then kisses Louis back, leaning into the hands that are soaping him up and petting him all at the same time. He can't believe his luck, that Louis would want to do this with him, too. "I read about it, a bit, it sounded so good, so sexy. But I couldn't make it work right."
"What do you mean? Because of the tension?" Louis keeps kissing Bradley, unable to get enough of him, hands and soap moving over his back, between his cheeks, fingers lingering there, stroking over his hole.
"That, and I couldn't reach properly...oh, that's good," he arches luxuriously into Louis's hands as that soap-slippery hand slides over his arse, fingers tickling him where he's raw and sore, just enough for him to squirm pleasantly, for his hole to flutter a little at the touch. "Didn't know just where to put them, didn't want to damage anything. There's still a red mark, just here." He lifts his penis, now heavy again with returning blood as Louis plays with him, to show a darker spot, nearly a bruise on the foreskin underneath the head.
"It looks sore," Louis says, his hand replacing Bradley's as he takes a closer look, thumb rubbing over the mark, pressing a little harder than he needs to.
"Ow, ouch, ow," Bradley chants under his breath, but tellingly, he doesn't pull away. Even more tellingly, his cock continues to fill as Louis's thumb hits the irritated spot and presses in, that firm touch fascinating. Bradley can't stop watching Louis's hand on him. His cock, not small by any means, looks somehow vulnerable in Louis's long fingers, his big hand. The way he handles it so surely. It makes Bradley's knees weak again, and he puts a hand flat against the glass to keep himself balanced as he watches Louis examine him.
"It scraped," he explains, voice a little hoarse. "Wood wasn't sanded smooth. I swore I'd check them next time."
"Or use something I give you. Something you can adjust," Louis says, stroking Bradley more firmly, his thumb now at the tip, nail digging into the slit. His eyes flickering upwards to catch Bradley's reaction.
"Ow!" at the sting of a fingernail in that most tender place, Bradley jumps, eyes going huge, but he doesn't move away. He's breathless again. Wondering what new thing this is, what Louis might do next, what amazing sensation is coming.
"I always knew I liked a bit of rough," he blurts, voice low in the rushing sound of the water all around them, making him feel like they're the only two people in the world, like it's safe for him to say anything, here. "I didn't...I didn't know how much I liked it. When it hurts. I like it even when it doesn't feel good. Is that...is that okay?"
"Yes." Louis nods and straightens up, still stroking, his eyes locked on Bradley's face. "It's more than okay. Especially with me," he says, suddenly releasing Bradley's cock and giving it a hard smack with the flat of his hand.
Bradley *yelps* at the pain of that, like he's been scalded, and jerks, whole body trembling as he freezes, after. His eyes are so huge they feel like he might never get them closed again, fixed on Louis, on that hand. His cock, fully stiff now, stands out from his body proudly, and the sting of it is still rippling through him.
"That really hurt," he says, voice shaking. He touches his cock with light fingers, the stinging, smarting skin warm under his fingertips.
"And...?" Louis leans in closer, watching Bradley, gauging his response, all the things he want to do with him, to him, running through his brain. "You want me to do it again, don't you?" he says softly.
Hesitantly, Bradley nods, never looking away from Louis's face, his fringe dripping warm water into his eyes. He does. He wants it. He thinks, vaguely, that he should be scared...the only thing scaring him is how very much he does want it, not the pain he knows is coming.
Louis closes his eyes for a moment, only a second, his arousal mounting again, so thick it's tightening his chest. He wraps his hand around Bradley's cock, stroking him, eyes locked on his, stroking, stroking and then very suddenly, slapping again. Harder than the first time, his palm left stinging.
"OH!" Bradley's hand slips where it's braced on the glass and he stumbles against Louis, curling around the agony in his cock, shocking and sudden and like a dizzying lightning strike straight to his brain. This time the pain stays, too, throbbing with his pulse. Every bit of his skin is awake and buzzing, the muscles in his abdomen tight with arousal, his hole clenching and clenching around nothing at all.
"Come here," Louis orders, his hands on Bradley in an instant, steadying him. "Put your arms around my neck and hold on."
With a laugh that's half a sob of pain, Bradley does as he's told, reaching up and winding his arms tightly around Louis's neck and clinging, hard. His entire being is a great pulse of want, a want that is so close to *need* as to be indistinguishable.
Louis gets both hands between them, stroking Bradley's cock, stroking it to full hardness before slapping it again, with one hand and then the other, back and forth, the slaps not nearly as hard as the one he'd delivered before, but hard enough, and coming faster, much faster, with no time for recovery between them.
The second slap drags a real sob from Bradley, and he buries his face in his own elbow so he can clench his teeth and howl and cry without bringing in the neighbors. He's given no chance to process each slap; they come fast and hard, each one both a sharp pain in his cock and the pull against the root as Louis slaps into his other hand, and everything in his lower belly tightens, pulses with it. His cock is nothing but pain, now, fiery-hot ache of it that he tries to hunch away from, only to find himself thrusting his hips forward for more.
When Louis's palm catches him just right, solid thud and sharp smack combined, he *does* scream, through his teeth, lifting his face and feeling all the tendons in his neck pull tight as he blinks the tears from his eyes. Still, his hips jump forward, wanting more, more and more again.
It doesn't matter how many other boys Louis has put in tears, Bradley in tears, trying to hold back and failing completely, stirs something in Louis that few others have done. "Beautiful," he murmurs between slaps. "You are being such a good boy for me." He grips the boy's cock and strokes it again, hard and fast, before returning to slapping. Harder than the last time. Wanting to see just how far he can push him.
In the back of Bradley's mind, he remembers his safeword. Just its existence, and it allows him to breathe again, steadies him, and better yet, lets him loose of some of his self-imposed bonds. Words suddenly come back to him and it's a relief, almost cleansing, to let them out, let the pleading begging broken words out.
"Hurts," he sobs into the crook of his elbow, body jerking with every slap and shivering in-between. He's swaying on his feet, supported only by his tight hold on Louis's shoulders, rocking with every impact. Not moving away. "Hurts, god, so much, pleasepleaseplease, no more, don't stop, please please, OH," another slap, "oh god no more, please..."
"Next time," Louis says, whispering into Bradley's ear, the litany of pleas making his cock ache, his hands starting to numb with the force behind the blows. "Next time, I'm going to put you on your knees, your legs spread, the biggest dildo I can find up your ass, clamps on your nipples and your cock and your balls, and I'm going to do this, exactly like this, one slap after another... until you come screaming..."
The warm velvet voice whispering wicked things in his ear is nearly too much, more stimulation, and the mental image Louis's words conjure up...Bradley's always had a vividly visual imagination and a picture flashes into his mind of the scene Louis is describing. His cry is nearly a wail, and his cock shines with pre-come, the slick head glistening entirely free of the foreskin, as achingly hard as he's ever been.
He desperately needs to come. But so soon after the last time, everything so raw and new, he can't...quite...get there...even with the frustrated movements of his hips, the way he pushes his cock against Louis's hand, he needs something more.
Bradley's struggle is obvious; has Louis so hard he can barely breathe. "I'm tempted to turn the water off. Make you wait until later," he says, gripping Bradley's cock and stroking roughly, his thumbnail pushed hard into the slit. "Maybe put you in a cage - remember? like we talked about? Make you wait until morning."
"You could...you could do that," Bradley chokes out. At this point he's like a liquid in Louis's hands. Anything the man wishes to do to him, he will take with the strange gratitude that comes when he's in his head like this, when everything is soft and quiet and peaceful, and he's given up worrying. The very few times he's felt it with Louis have made him nearly desperate for more. "If you like. If you want. I can wait. I can." It would hurt, god it would hurt. He wonders distantly if he'd be able to sleep. Then the bite of the edge of Louis's fingernail, scoring his slit, the grip of his hand breaks through and Bradley is coming.
A great, heaving sob breaks loose as soon as his orgasm does, and as soon as he's come and the aftershocks hit, he slumps forward into Louis's arms.
"Good boy," Louis praises, holding Bradley close, the boy's words replaying in his head, his willingness, his desire to please, to give himself up, all control over to Louis so quickly, so unquestioningly something he's going to have to think long and hard about. "You were incredible, so good for me," he continues, holding Bradley for a little longer and then getting them both washed and out of the shower, Bradley dried off like a child and guided to bed. "I'm going to get a plate of food and some water," he says, tucking him under the covers and kissing him softly. "And then I'll be right back."
The gentle hands, soft voice, all steady Bradley and the way Louis tenderly moves him, gets him into bed, and even the kiss serve to calm him enough that he lies there, quiet. Watching Louis move around the apartment, feeling all his aches, slowly coming up from wherever he'd been. Slower than ever before, and by the time Louis returns with the food and water, he's not really all there, quite yet.
He just moves over a little, making room silently. Blinking owlishly at Louis and at the food, like it's some alien substance he's never heard of before. He's got a hand curled under his cheek and he's warm and comfortable, on his side, nothing hurting, just drifting.
Louis plumps a few pillows against the headboard and sits down, shifting until he's comfortable. "Come here," he says, making room between his legs for Bradley. "Sit with your back against me and I'll feed you."
"Mmkay." Bradley stretches a little, coming out of his neat little curl, and then wiggles over until he's between Louis's long, long legs, leaning back against his body, head resting in that perfect soft spot just above his collarbone. He sighs with contentment. He feels completely surrounded, warm and safe, and oddly it lets him stay in that delicious headspace even longer, feeling like this.
He makes a sound that's very nearly a purr, turning his head so he can plant a soft, gently sucking kiss on Louis's neck.
"Careful," Louis teases, groaning softly at the feel of Bradley's mouth on his skin. "You might distract me from the food again." He moves the plate in front of them, slices of proscuitto accompanied by chunks of bread and cheese, cantaloupe and strawberries. He wraps a piece of proscuitto around a chunk of cantaloupe and brings it to Bradley's mouth. "Open."
Obediently, Bradley opens. His senses are still hyperactive, so the taste of the melon and proscuitto exploding across his tongue makes him moan out loud. And suddenly he realizes just how thirsty, and hungry, and sore he really is.
"Water, please?" he asks softly, needing it before the next bite if he's to swallow, his mouth is so dry.
Louis switches the plate between hands and reaches for the water, offering it to Bradley.
He knows enough to sip lightly at the water at first, but then brings up a hand to hold the glass, gulping greedily. When it's empty he snuggles back in against Louis, much more comfortable, and starting to feel a touch more awake.
"I didn't know anyone could come that hard and not pass out," he confesses, a little wryly. "Especially not twice in a row." He squirms a little to get comfortable, and feels Louis's cock in the small of his back. "Oh my god!" He sits bolt upright, mortified. "You didn't come!"
"No, but I did the first time," Louis says, holding a chunk of cheese in front of Bradley's mouth. "Eat."
Bradley automatically takes the cheese, chews furiously, and swallows. "But that's not right," he continues, turning a little sideways so he can glance at Louis's face. Mostly, he looks amused, but Bradley is still distressed at his own bad manners. "I mean, you were just as hard as me, and I just kind of collapsed there at the end and I didn't even *think* about whether you'd come or not. That's just no good at all."
"Right now it is," Louis says firmly. "While you're new and learning, the focus should be on you." He takes a bite of cheese. "Besides.... I got a great deal of pleasure out of making you come like that."
"I'm a big boy," Bradley grumbles, nearly under his breath, "I don't need hand-holding and I can do my share." Of course, the way he's snuggled in to the big warm body behind him is a direct contradiction to that, but he's not paying that any mind just now. He opens like a bird to the next bite of melon, and chews while he thinks. His mind still isn't firing on all cylinders, but Louis's cock isn't urgently stiff behind him, and he seems relaxed and genuine in what he's saying, so Bradley, eventually, gives it up and relaxes.
"In that book, most of the time the top--the dominant?--was coming and the bottom wasn't allowed at all," he informs Louis, though. "Not the other way round."
"Well, in that book most of the bottoms aren't anywhere near as hardcore masochists as you're proving to be," Louis counters, reaching behind Bradley to pour another glass of water. "I want the connection between pain and pleasure very firmly connected in your mind before I start not letting you come."
"H-hardcore?" Bradley stutters, taken off-guard when Louis moves, mind whirling at that word. It sounds...intense. And the idea that Louis has this all planned out, that he's doing it deliberately, makes Bradley pause.
"You've actually got a plan, don't you," he murmurs, glancing at Louis through his eyelashes. "You're not doing this off the cuff. You...you hurt me like that, in the shower, so I'd come with my cock nearly burning off with pain, and now I do, I want more, want to see what else there is." He shivers in Louis's arms. "It was more intense than anything I've ever felt. I almost can't believe there can be more."
"There's so much more," Louis tells him, kissing him softly. "And yes, I do have a plan but it's not written in stone. I alter and amend it depending on your reactions, the things you say. And I try to take things slowly because I don't want to risk frightening you off, but you're so incredibly eager." A fact that arouses him like nothing else.
"I tend to leap first, look later," Bradley smiles into the kiss, admitting it. "Why muck about waiting when there are so many things to do? Man of action, that's me." He nips gently at Louis's mouth, just enjoying the contact that Louis gives away as freely as water, like it's endless. Bradley finds himself craving it like water, too. "I read a few things in the book that seemed rather...extreme? Yeah, extreme. But if you'd told me two weeks ago that I'd come like that, from having someone slap my cock, I'd've told you you were mad. So I'm keeping an open mind, and as long as it's okay if I say, if something is scary...?" He trails off, looking to Louis for the answer.
"Of course you can tell me if you don't want to do something," Louis says reassuringly. "Or if you think you'd like to but it looks like too much and you're not sure. We can explore the idea of trying something and talk about it without actually having to carry through. Is that what you mean?"
"Yeah, that's it exactly," Bradley says, relieved. "The vids I've seen had a lot of big men in leather ordering people about, but I know that's just for porn, not real. The book didn't say one way or the other, though it said, one place, that some...slaves? They don't say no, not ever." He looks to Louis again for confirmation. "I'm not totally clear on the roles yet," he confesses. "There seems to be a lot of grey area."
Louis nods. "There is a lot of grey area," he says, feeding Bradley a piece of bread topped with cheese. "Remember we talked about human sexuality being on a spectrum? Well, there is a spectrum for submissiveness as well - ranging from," he pauses, thinking of the best way to explain it, "simply liking to be tied down and maybe spanked on occasion but with no real power play involved to giving up complete control but only in scene to yes, giving up control 24/7, but the last is very rare."
"Oh. Hmm." Bradley chews again, turning that over in his head as he finishes off the delicious bite. "Makes sense. And two people just getting together...how do they figure out where they are on the spectrum? If they're compatible, all that, in their grey areas?" He watches Louis with wide eyes. "How do you figure it out, if you're brand new?"
Louis gives a soft chuckle at that. "Honestly? I'm not sure. I expect it's not much different than vanilla couples figuring out whether they're compatible. You talk, you explore, you compromise. But at the heart of it, I think there has to be a connection," he says, his voice softening a little. "There has to be a feeling you belong with this person."
"That 'click,'" Bradley nods. He ducks his head a little. It's so early in the relationship to be feeling this way, he knows, but he definitely feels that with Louis. The sense that he belongs *right here* in this man's arms, in their bed together, talking quietly and just spending time together. It's more than just the brilliant sex, more than chemistry and kink, it's deeper than that. But he can't confess that now, not to this urbane, sophisticated man. He'd probably run screaming the other direction.
"I'm terribly glad I found you, then," he says more lightly, smiling. "Talking and exploring, it's never been quite so good before, I'll tell you that. And so far the experimentation's been brilliant as well."
"Yes, it has," Louis agrees, smiling, setting the empty plate on the nightstand and wrapping his arms around Bradley. "It's all been wonderful," he says, kissing him softly on the mouth, a nagging voice in the back of his mind - maybe Marie's - reminding him that all this wonderfulness might come to a screeching halt if he doesn't tell Bradley about Citadel, and soon. But the fear that telling him might equally bring a halt to things has him wavering, hesitating, putting it off as long as he can. At the very least he wants to wait until they have another day off together - so he can be there to counter any negative reaction.
Bradley twists a little in his arms so the kiss is at a better angle, gets an arm up and around his neck and shoulder, and just lets himself drown in the kiss. Lazy, long, tongues dancing together and then slipping apart, a kiss without an agenda. It's fantastic and he lets himself relax even further, trusting Louis to support his whole weight as he presses a little closer, gets a little more of a taste. He's curled in Louis's lap now, just where he wants to be.
"I have to work tomorrow," he murmurs regretfully, after a long and delightful interlude of sucking on Louis's tongue. "I dunno why, even, since it's supposed to be a great long bit with just Merlin and his magic, but I'm on the call sheet for the morning, so I can't stay."
The disappointment Louis feels then is crushing and he's sure it shows on his face before he quickly schools his features, covering instantly. "You should have told me," he says, leaning in, their foreheads pressed together. "I wouldn't have pushed you so hard if I'd known you were going to go back to the hotel and spend the night alone."
No matter that Louis controls it immediately, Bradley saw the flash of disappointment cross his handsome face, and it warms him, knowing that he'll be missed. "I didn't even think to," he replies softly, rolling his forehead back and forth against Louis's, almost brushing their noses together. "And I'm glad I didn't," he adds impulsively. "I would've been ever so disappointed if you'd held back, if I'd missed even a moment of that. It was completely spectacular. No regrets, yeah? And I can see you tomorrow, if you're free. Anytime after four, that's when we close up that set."
"I'll make sure I'm free," Louis promises, kissing him softly again, unable to get enough.
"We could meet back here, if you like," Bradley suggests, a little shy about inviting himself, but encouraged by that expression he'd seen cross Louis's fine features . "I don't call until noon, day after. If you wanted to have dinner, something like that. Show me ten more brilliant ways you know how to make a fellow cry." He grins, a bit self-deprecating, as he's never sobbed like that during sex and is just a little embarrassed about it.
"Here would be perfect and I know a lot more than ten," Louis teases, eyes sparkling, back to smiling, "but yes, in one evening, ten would probably be the maximum we could work in."
"Oh my god," Bradley half-laughs, half-moans, closing his eyes and slumping dramatically back, "you'll be the death of me, you know that? The absolute death. I won't be able to keep a single bloody thought in my head tomorrow with that kind of promise hanging over me. I'll just keep *thinking* and *wondering* and then thinking some more, and it'll be a total wreck."
"Well, I could promise to be a perfect gentleman and not touch you at all..."
"GOD no!" Bradley protests, sitting bolt upright again, then realizing that Louis is having him on from the evil twinkle in his eye. He simultaneously feels the twinges of pain from his arse and his cock, too, and glances down, curious to see if there's any outward sign of the pain.
No bruises, though the skin is still reddish, even though he's flaccid now and relaxed. He touches it, gently, with two fingers, and winces just a bit at the raw tender feeling. "Wish I could get rid of this hair," he muses, still looking down. "Like the boys in the book. I liked that look. It'd be a bit hard to explain on set, though." The curls of dark blonde hair on his chest, arrowing down to join the groomed blond bush at the base of his cock, aren't exactly out of control, but he still wishes for that bare, fine appearance he'd seen in the pictures.
"They get to see you naked that much, do they?" Louis asks, having never seen Bradley's show and making a note to try and get it from somewhere.
"Well, half-naked plus a tease on camera," Bradley amends. "I'm not exactly the shy type, though, so yeah, in the wardrobe trailer, I suppose pretty much everyone's got a general idea of how it all looks downstairs."
"You could always tell them you lost a bet," Louis suggests, rather amused by the idea. "Although," he adds, reaching out to give those short coiled hairs a quick tug, "there's good things to be said for this look as well."
Bradley yelps a little, wiggling. "I could hardly *keep* losing bets though, could I? Not really, at least not with anyone believing it. I'm starting to see the appeal. Fewer hand-holds." He mock-glares at Louis.
Louis laughs. "Or you could tell them your boyfriend likes it that way." Enjoying the look on Bradley's face.
After his first moment of joyful shock at hearing Louis refer to himself like that, Bradley actually considers it. "You know...it wouldn't be so bad. It'd be true, too, as far as it goes. Hmm. Something to think about, anyway." He leans in for a quick kiss, light and playful this time. He's not really tired anymore; it seems like the adrenaline rush is lasting much longer this time, and he's still tingling just a little.
"How long can you stay?" Louis asks, hands itching to start touching more of Bradley /again/ but he doesn't want to start anything they won't get to finish.
"Not long," Bradley answers, soft and regretful. "It's an early call and it won't do to show up looking like the undead, especially since I was something of a space case today, waiting for tonight. *And* I've line rewrites to run through before bed, as well. If I don't go soon, I won't go at all." He kisses Louis again, longer this time, deeper and with feeling.
Louis groans into the kiss, his body reacting instinctively. "I guess we'd better put our clothes back on," he says with a soft sigh when they finally part. "I'll walk you to your car."
"Such a gentleman," Bradley teases gently. He even manages a very passable American Southern Belle accent, looking at Louis through his eyelashes. "I do declare, kind sir, you'll have me all a-blush with such attentions." Very, very reluctantly, he starts moving out of Louis's embrace, wondering where exactly he'd left his clothes.
Louis laughs, giving Bradley a gentle swat on the ass as he drags himself from the bed. "Didn't you mention something about make-up and dresses on our first date?" he says, getting a pair of jeans and a black cableknit sweater from his closet. "I'm starting to sense a secret kink..."
Bradley locates his clothing, yanks on his boxer-briefs, and starts on his shirts. "Hardly a secret," he mumbles, pulling the jumper over his head. From inside it, both hands over his head and inside the sleeves, he informs Louis, "I'd wear a dress for you in a heartbeat, the whole deal, makeup and the lot. But not even for you--" his head pops out the collar, hair going everywhere as he pulls it into place, "am I ever in my life getting into a corset again."
"Not even if boys in corsets happens to be my secret kink?" Louis says, keeping a completely straight face as, dressed, he gets his hands on Bradley's hips and pulls him in close again.
Bradley's face falls a little as he takes Louis at his word. "Well," he says, dragging it out, letting himself be reeled in until he's held close again. "I mean. If you really wanted...if it was....I mean, it's a give and take, right? Like being partners? And since you're, um, you, I bet you could probably make it good..." he trails off, hearing the dubiousness in his own voice. He'll never forget the bite of the whalebone and his creaking ribs in that torture device on stage.
Louis laughs, he can't help it. "I'm teasing you," he whispers, kissing Bradley, sucking a little on that pouty lower lip. "I'm not into corsets at all, although I have no doubt you would look very sexy in one."
"Bloody..." Bradley laughs then, too, can't keep up the scowl, not when he's being kissed like this. He wraps his hands around Louis's wrists, where they're resting on his own hips, leans in, and kisses him as hard as he can. "That was very bad," he scolds, mock-severely. "I was scrambling hard, there. I had to wear a corset for a stage role and didn't find it sexy in the least, just bloody irritating and uncomfortable, NOT in a good way."
"That's because no one made any effort to make it pleasurable for you," Louis says, only half-teasing this time. "You'd be surprised what one can find arousing in the right hands." He grins.
"Not anymore I wouldn't," Bradley answers, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Not after what I've seen with clothespins and those little clamps and that plug, thing. Though I'd be pretty shocked if you could make me love a corset. It was a costume, not a sex toy, granted, but that'd be a miracle."
"We'll see," Louis says mysteriously, smiling as he takes Bradley's hand in his and kisses the back, still far too tempted to push Bradley back against the kitchen island and... "I should see you to your car - before I decide to keep you here."
"And I should get to my car, before I decide to just grab onto your shoes and not let go till you drag me out like some screaming toddler," Bradley answers, stroking his hands restlessly up and down the flat planes of Louis's flanks, down to his thighs, up to his waist again. The courtly gesture of having his hand kissed makes him strangely flustered, and he pulls free hastily, before he really *does* just fling himself at Louis's knees.
His head is starting to ache; exhaustion, he thinks, and a bit of stress, and all the crying. He touches his temple, rubbing it a little, and then smiles at Louis. "Yeah, it's time to go. Time for me to hit the road before I get *too* tired. And then I can dream about all the things we'll get up to tomorrow!"
[Feedback welcome. All comments screened.]
louis_garneau: ReunionPlayers Only. A week and a half after their last date.
Bradley is pacing.
He knows he's early. He knows he's *really* early, and that Louis had said he'd be going in to the office after landing in France, and that they'd meet here in the evening. In the flat that Bradley has, illogically, found himself missing intensely in the nine days Louis has been gone. The sun had only just started setting when he'd parked the car, and he'd let himself into the flat, made himself a cup of tea, and puttered around a little. Browsed through the contents of Louis's closet, appreciating the gorgeous tailoring of Louis's clothes.
But now he's exhausted the entertainment potential, and he just wants Louis to get here already. It's evening, dammit. They hadn't set a solid time, but surely Louis has been at the office for hours now, and is ready to knock off for the night? Bradley contemplates calling, even pulls out his phone, but then shoves it back into his pocket. Too needy, he decides. Too impatient. They've only had a couple of dates, after all.
He continues on pacing.
His quick check-in at the office had turned into much more, not that he shouldn't have known it would, and Louis had finally had to drag himself away, promising he would deal with everything tomorrow, right away, the moment he gets in. Jet-lagged and now stressed from having to struggle to get away, Louis takes the twists and turns down to Sarlat proper a little faster than he should, only the ribbons and stuffed toys on a tree at one particularly sharp corner reminding him that he won't be seeing Bradley at all if he crashes. That in mind, he slows down, eases into town, and finds a parking spot fairly close to his place. He's still in his suit, the same one he'd worn on the plane, and he feels less than his usual impeccable self but he could care less and he hopes Bradley feels the same way, because right now, all he wants to do is see him, touch him. God help him if the boy's not at his place already.
But there's lights on, lights he knows he turned off before he leaves, and the housekeeper never forgets to turn off, and with an extra bounce in his step, he covers the last stretch to the door, keys already out and in the lock the moment he reaches it. And then he's bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time...
Bradley hears the door open, pounding of feet coming up the stairs fast, and every inch of him comes awake and alert. He's already moving, huge smile on his face, when Louis tops the stairs and steps into the huge, open space of the loft.
"Hey there," he says softly, coming to a stop and just letting his eyes feast. Louis looks good enough to eat. Even better, impossibly, than Bradley'd imagined, remembered while having a wank, dreamed about. He's a little strained around the eyes, tired lines deeper around his mouth, but he's *gorgeous* and Bradley can't wait to get his hands on him. "Have a good trip?" Inane, but he can't even think straight right now, much less make clever conversation.
"Yes, but I missed you," Louis says, not caring how he sounds. He stands there for a moment, taking Bradley in, his heart beating wildly, then closes the distance between them, reaching out and pulling the boy in tight up against him, kissing him, his mouth hard and hungry. They can talk later.
"Missed you too," Bradley gets out and then Louis's mouth is crashing down on his, hands hard and pulling him in *so* tight and he's doing the same. His hands are frantic, suddenly, running all over Louis as he sucks desperately on his tongue. Memorizing the taste and feel of him all over again. "God, missed you *so much,*" he gasps out as Louis's mouth moves to his neck, then back to his mouth. It's like they're both starving and cannot possibly get close enough.
"I've been thinking about this since I left," Louis says with a smile, pulling back only enough to tug Bradley's shirt over his head, get his hands on his skin, fingers dipping below the loose waistband of the boy's jeans as he kisses him, again and again, bruisingly hard, his cock already heavy and aching.
"Haven't been able to stop thinking about it either," Bradley breathes, lifting his hands so his shirt can come off, arching his back so Louis can get more fingers inside his jeans, basically doing anything he can to get closer, closer, as close as he can. He's plastered against Louis from knees to chest, can feel the rigid length of Louis's cock where it's bumping into his belly, and there are little shivers already running down his spine.
He's read bits of the book that Louis gave him. He's been unable to *stop* reading bits of that book. Going mostly on instinct, still, he puts his hands on Louis's hips, slides down his body, and lands on his own knees. Hands on Louis's thighs, still, stroking and petting, and he looks up at him. The view is incredible. Incredible. His heart is about to beat out of his chest, and he licks his lips, meeting Louis's eyes.
"I want you, so much," he confesses hoarsely. "I want you to fuck me, hurt me again. *PLEASE.*" It's artless and utterly sincere, raw and desperately needy.
Mon dieu. Louis is frozen in place, the sight stealing his breath away, his cock throbbing so hard it's a wonder he doesn't come right there and then. He's seen so many boys on their knees in his life, so many, their faces, the memories blending together, but this, this is altogether different. He closes his eyes, a moment of calm, of silent meditation in the midst of the storm, and then opens them again, his voice rough when he speaks. "Get up. Bend over the table," he orders, completely ignoring the bed right beside them.
Bradley's heart nearly stops, then hammers on twice as hard. He leaps to his feet, scrambling to obey, and it's only a few short steps to the table. Shaking, he leans over it, braced on his hands, head hanging down between his shoulders from where he's propped up. It's just at hip-height, too. Perfect. The old wood is warm and smooth against his palms and he tries to take a few steadying breaths, not knowing what's coming.
Louis doesn't bother with his jacket, with his tie, hell, with anything except getting his belt unbuckled, his trousers open and his cock freed. Within seconds he's got a condom on, a packet of lube at the ready, and his hands are back on Bradley, his body pressed close as he unfastens his belt and jeans from behind, pushing them and his underwear down over his hips, his erection pressing between the boy's still faintly-bruised cheeks. "Tell me again," he whispers, hands stroking over Bradley's chest, fingers pinching and twisting his nipples. "Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you."
The heat of Louis's cock burns against Bradley's crack, hard and demanding and just not enough. Not even close. Bradley sighs a little with pleasure as Louis twists his nipples, arches his back, pushes his hips up and back and demandingly into the cradle of Louis's pelvis. "So much," he gasps. "All I could think about was how it felt, how it hurt me so good, your cock's so big and when it pushes in, the way it burns..." he whimpers a little, running out of words. His own cock rubs against the wood of the table with every move he makes, and he's already so hard he's leaving streaks of pre-come there.
Louis's cock throbs, throbs hard at the words, pulsing hotly between Bradley's cheeks and he glances at the packet, laid there on the table, hesitating for only a moment before he decides the lube on the condom will have to be enough. He drops one hand to his cock, lines up and starts pushing in, slowly, oh-so-slowly, making sure Bradley knows he's getting nothing but this.
Expecting fingers, Bradley shifts and shivers when the first thing he feels is the blunt, heavy nudge of Louis's cock against his hole. He's imagined this a hundred times since Louis left and now it's really happening, even more perfectly than he'd fantasized. Spreading his legs wider with a little moan, he braces himself, then hisses through his teeth at the sticky, burning shove that presses him open. He wants the burn, wants to feel this for days. The icy edge of pain that races up his spine has him moaning, pressing his cock against the table, seeking any friction he can find.
"Relax. Relax and open up for me," Louis demands, pushing a little harder, need overriding the desire to go slow, to ease the stretch, the burn, the pain. Cock half-way in, he gets his hand on the back of Bradley's neck, pushing him down, pinning him, forcing himself deeper, past any resistance.
Bradley's body is instinctively fighting the intrusion, tightening, clamping down, resisting. His hips buck and twist without his control, trying to escape, even as his cock goes even more rigid, as he moans louder. Louis's hand is hard, warm, solid on the back of his neck, pressing him down until he's flat on the table, arms buckling, and then he's no leverage at all, and the next brutal thrust has him screaming through his teeth.
It's nearly pure pain, now, almost no pleasure at all, but his brain is reading it all sideways, he thinks dizzily, endorphins rushing through him like a tide. It feels so good he's nearly blissing, even as he hears himself pant out choked little breaths as Louis works himself into his body, forcing in where he's still tight and closed. One more shove and he can feel Louis's belly against his back, soft balls against the curve of his buttocks, he's in to the root and Bradley's so filled he can barely breathe.
Buried deep, Louis stills, his cock throbbing, responding to the tight heat, to the soft velvet clench of Bradley's body. "So good," he murmurs, tongue thick in his mouth, his throat dry, the slightest movement threatening to send him over. He licks his lips and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling until the feeling passes then slowly draws back, almost all the way out, fingers gripping tighter on the nape of Bradley's neck, intent on keeping him right where he is. And then, looking down, watching the tip of his cock slip from Bradley's hole, he shoves in again, all the way in, with one solid thrust.
It hurts nearly as much going out as it did in, and Bradley tenses as he feels Louis leave his body. Then the thrust home, all the way in in one harsh stroke, and his back arches almost impossibly as he tries to lift up on his elbows, struggles for a long moment against the weight of Louis's hand on his neck, mouth open, not making a sound, struck silent by the intensity of it.
It's brilliant, it hurts, and this time Louis slammed right against his prostate on the way in, that lovely bundle of nerves that sets all of Bradley's hair on end when it's touched, shivering and goosebumped with pleasure. He turns his cheek to the table, hears the keening little moan he's making now, and lifts his hips again. Begging for more.
Louis groans, cock jerking sharply with the way Bradley lifts his hips to meet the next thrust. He slides his hand from Bradley's neck into his hair, tugging on it, pulling his head back as he pulls out and slams in again, even harder, using the grip for leverage. Angling his own hips to graze across his prostate.
As Bradley's body inevitably stretches, relaxes, gives to the pressure, the sharp sting fades, replaced by the slower-building heat of friction. Bradley whimpers, restless, wanting it back, and then feels Louis's cock prodding at his prostate, aim perfect, and nearly comes off the table with the jolt of pleasure. "Oh god yeah there right there," he's babbling now, words coming out slurred and heavy, whole body rocking against the table with the force of Louis's thrusts.
He's glad he'd thought ahead, jerked off twice today, or he'd have come long ago, and that would be a shame. Instead, he grits his teeth and meets every pounding thrust with a moan, a twist of his hips, anything to get more.
The path eased, Louis slams in even harder, hand tightening in Bradley's hair. Drives in again and again, holding nothing back, showing no mercy as he reams the boy open, his eyes flickering between where his cock's disappearing into Bradley's hole and Bradley's face, his cheek, his mouth open and panting and urging him on. Pleasure building and building, his orgasm delayed by sheer willlpower alone.
With one particularly vicious thrust, Louis slams into Bradley's prostate, and the pressure pinches his cock between his own body and the hard surface of the table. With a shocked gasp, then a cry, he's coming. Totally unexpected, no warning, the pain and pleasure push him over and he's jerking and shaking, whole body clamping down with the convulsions, which go on and on and on. So powerful he's whiting out, blinded by the flood of endorphins and the his own shocked neurons; his fingernails dig futilely for purchase on the tabletop as his hips buck and heave helplessly.
Louis curses loudly, Bradley's body clenching down tight on his cock, overriding that willpower in an instant. He spills into the latex, flooding it, hot and thick and heavy, aftershock after aftershock coursing through his frame, shaking him to the bone.
Even through the static of his own orgasm, the waves of pleasure, Bradley can tell Louis is coming. Just the knowledge sets off another aftershock, as he works his internal muscles almost instinctively, milking Louis's cock, keeping them both in the middle of the storm for just as long as he can before he finally relaxes, limp and exhausted, lying against the table and panting for breath. He feels like he's barely even conscious, just floating, every muscle loose and every nerve unstrung.
Finally letting go of Bradley's hair, Louis chuckles softly, dropping down to kiss the back of Bradley's shoulder, then stretching to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cock pushed deeper still. "Now that was a welcome home."
Bradley makes a small hurting sound as Louis's cock prods his tender insides as he shifts and moves, and the kisses are a delicious, soft counterpoint. He doesn't want to move, doesn't ever want to stop feeling this. The intensity of his desire for this, for *more*, is almost scary.
"Wouldn't want you to think you hadn't been missed," he croaks out, a little smile curling the corner of his mouth as he looks at Louis sideways, without moving. Not wanting anything to disturb them, though his thighs are aching with the stretch of his position over the table now, and his belly is sticky with his own cooling come."I'd imagined ten ways we might've ended up fucking inside ten minutes of you getting in the door. None were half as brilliant as this."
"Well then I'm very glad to hear I didn't disappoint," Louis murmurs, kissing Bradley one more time before he pushes up and eases out, stepping back so Bradley can get up as well. "Shower?" he asks, eyeing the mess smeared across Bradley's belly, his cock red, the skin indented where the table cut into it. "And then food? I didn't eat much on the plane," he says. "And I was too busy at work..."
Bradley holds very still as Louis withdraws. It feels like sandpaper, now, and yet he finds he doesn't mind, not at all. He's biting his lip hard enough to leave a dent; once Louis is gone from his body, he stands up very carefully, and reaches for the ceiling in a long, luxurious stretch.
He feels Louis's eyes on his cock. Realizes he's a mess, his trousers still around his ankles, and flushes a little.
"You're the only person I know who gets off a transAtlantic flight and goes straight in to the office," Bradley informs him, struggling to kick out of his shoes and trousers with some kind of grace. "I think a shower would be just the thing, and food...yeah, I was a bit too excited to pay much attention at supper, myself." His grin at Louis is just the tiniest bit shy. They haven't seen each other in ages, after all.
Louis runs a hand through his hair. "I didn't expect to actually get pulled into work. I was simply going to drop my things at my - I have quarters there as well," he says, unknotting and pulling his tie from his neck. He leans in and kisses Bradley again, his jacket shrugged from his shoulders and draped over the chair beside them. "Did you read the book?" he asks, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
"I read parts of it," Bradley answers. He's naked and watching Louis get naked, and could this night get any better? He thinks, no. "I had no idea there were so many ways to tie a person up. I skipped around, rather, there was a lot in there." He grins at Louis. "The kneeling part was brilliant, I thought. It's what gave me the idea. You liked that, yeah?" He's pretty sure, but he wants confirmation.
Louis nods. "Mais oui." He pushes his socks and shoes aside, and drops his underwear and trousers, draping them over the same chair with his jacket. And then he's pressing close, one hand on Bradley's hip, the other cupping the back of his neck. "You stole my breath away," he whispers, brushing their lips together.
"And you took mine..." Bradley breathes against his mouth. "I've yet to get it back altogether..." Ignoring the fact that he needs a shower, that the floor is chilling his feet, Bradley presses up and into the kiss as hard as he can, lining them up so as much of their bodies are touching as possible. He's starving for it, starving for the touch of Louis's skin on his own and those hands, one on his neck, right where it feels it belongs.
"I played about with a few things while you were away," he confesses when they next part to breathe. "Clothespins. A dildo. While I was wanking, I mean." It wasn't the same without Louis there, but even wanking without that brilliant pinch and bite of pain felt boring and flat.
"Clothespins?" Louis smiles, his softening cock jerking lightly. "How was that?" he asks, managing to nudge Bradley back, back, back until they're in the bathroom.
"It was...good," Bradley says, laughing and blushing, stepping backwards as Louis herds him towards the bath. He really does need a wash. "Not as fun without you, of course. *I* always took them off before they started hurting too much, and I can't fuck myself into raptures, during." He didn't just confine himself to his nipples, either, but he's not sure how to say that to Louis, and so just keeps it to himself.
"They're good when you have nothing else, but you can't really adjust the tension," Louis says, getting Bradley up against the glass door of the shower enclosure and reaching to turn the water on. "Not like with the clamps we used - which, by the way, can be put on your cock and your balls as well."
"O-oh..." Bradley stutters out, Louis's words mirroring his own thoughts of a moment before so closely that he's startled into near-speechlessness. "I, I had to take them off pretty quick, there, they were too tight." He's not looking at Louis as he confesses this. Or admitting how breathlessly hard it had made him in the moments before he'd had to take the pins off. The hot water hits him and he turns his face into it gratefully, letting it wash away his flush, his confusion, the sticky remnants of their amazing welcome-home sex.
"I can imagine," Louis says, his cock trying its very best to get hard again as his imagination works overtime, picturing Bradley in his hotel room, dildo in his ass and pins on his cock and balls. Looking utterly debauched. Mon dieu. "But you think you'd like that?" he asks, turning Bradley around and kissing him, the bar of soap suddenly in his hands and his hands all over the boy.
"Oh god yes," Bradley answers, then kisses Louis back, leaning into the hands that are soaping him up and petting him all at the same time. He can't believe his luck, that Louis would want to do this with him, too. "I read about it, a bit, it sounded so good, so sexy. But I couldn't make it work right."
"What do you mean? Because of the tension?" Louis keeps kissing Bradley, unable to get enough of him, hands and soap moving over his back, between his cheeks, fingers lingering there, stroking over his hole.
"That, and I couldn't reach properly...oh, that's good," he arches luxuriously into Louis's hands as that soap-slippery hand slides over his arse, fingers tickling him where he's raw and sore, just enough for him to squirm pleasantly, for his hole to flutter a little at the touch. "Didn't know just where to put them, didn't want to damage anything. There's still a red mark, just here." He lifts his penis, now heavy again with returning blood as Louis plays with him, to show a darker spot, nearly a bruise on the foreskin underneath the head.
"It looks sore," Louis says, his hand replacing Bradley's as he takes a closer look, thumb rubbing over the mark, pressing a little harder than he needs to.
"Ow, ouch, ow," Bradley chants under his breath, but tellingly, he doesn't pull away. Even more tellingly, his cock continues to fill as Louis's thumb hits the irritated spot and presses in, that firm touch fascinating. Bradley can't stop watching Louis's hand on him. His cock, not small by any means, looks somehow vulnerable in Louis's long fingers, his big hand. The way he handles it so surely. It makes Bradley's knees weak again, and he puts a hand flat against the glass to keep himself balanced as he watches Louis examine him.
"It scraped," he explains, voice a little hoarse. "Wood wasn't sanded smooth. I swore I'd check them next time."
"Or use something I give you. Something you can adjust," Louis says, stroking Bradley more firmly, his thumb now at the tip, nail digging into the slit. His eyes flickering upwards to catch Bradley's reaction.
"Ow!" at the sting of a fingernail in that most tender place, Bradley jumps, eyes going huge, but he doesn't move away. He's breathless again. Wondering what new thing this is, what Louis might do next, what amazing sensation is coming.
"I always knew I liked a bit of rough," he blurts, voice low in the rushing sound of the water all around them, making him feel like they're the only two people in the world, like it's safe for him to say anything, here. "I didn't...I didn't know how much I liked it. When it hurts. I like it even when it doesn't feel good. Is that...is that okay?"
"Yes." Louis nods and straightens up, still stroking, his eyes locked on Bradley's face. "It's more than okay. Especially with me," he says, suddenly releasing Bradley's cock and giving it a hard smack with the flat of his hand.
Bradley *yelps* at the pain of that, like he's been scalded, and jerks, whole body trembling as he freezes, after. His eyes are so huge they feel like he might never get them closed again, fixed on Louis, on that hand. His cock, fully stiff now, stands out from his body proudly, and the sting of it is still rippling through him.
"That really hurt," he says, voice shaking. He touches his cock with light fingers, the stinging, smarting skin warm under his fingertips.
"And...?" Louis leans in closer, watching Bradley, gauging his response, all the things he want to do with him, to him, running through his brain. "You want me to do it again, don't you?" he says softly.
Hesitantly, Bradley nods, never looking away from Louis's face, his fringe dripping warm water into his eyes. He does. He wants it. He thinks, vaguely, that he should be scared...the only thing scaring him is how very much he does want it, not the pain he knows is coming.
Louis closes his eyes for a moment, only a second, his arousal mounting again, so thick it's tightening his chest. He wraps his hand around Bradley's cock, stroking him, eyes locked on his, stroking, stroking and then very suddenly, slapping again. Harder than the first time, his palm left stinging.
"OH!" Bradley's hand slips where it's braced on the glass and he stumbles against Louis, curling around the agony in his cock, shocking and sudden and like a dizzying lightning strike straight to his brain. This time the pain stays, too, throbbing with his pulse. Every bit of his skin is awake and buzzing, the muscles in his abdomen tight with arousal, his hole clenching and clenching around nothing at all.
"Come here," Louis orders, his hands on Bradley in an instant, steadying him. "Put your arms around my neck and hold on."
With a laugh that's half a sob of pain, Bradley does as he's told, reaching up and winding his arms tightly around Louis's neck and clinging, hard. His entire being is a great pulse of want, a want that is so close to *need* as to be indistinguishable.
Louis gets both hands between them, stroking Bradley's cock, stroking it to full hardness before slapping it again, with one hand and then the other, back and forth, the slaps not nearly as hard as the one he'd delivered before, but hard enough, and coming faster, much faster, with no time for recovery between them.
The second slap drags a real sob from Bradley, and he buries his face in his own elbow so he can clench his teeth and howl and cry without bringing in the neighbors. He's given no chance to process each slap; they come fast and hard, each one both a sharp pain in his cock and the pull against the root as Louis slaps into his other hand, and everything in his lower belly tightens, pulses with it. His cock is nothing but pain, now, fiery-hot ache of it that he tries to hunch away from, only to find himself thrusting his hips forward for more.
When Louis's palm catches him just right, solid thud and sharp smack combined, he *does* scream, through his teeth, lifting his face and feeling all the tendons in his neck pull tight as he blinks the tears from his eyes. Still, his hips jump forward, wanting more, more and more again.
It doesn't matter how many other boys Louis has put in tears, Bradley in tears, trying to hold back and failing completely, stirs something in Louis that few others have done. "Beautiful," he murmurs between slaps. "You are being such a good boy for me." He grips the boy's cock and strokes it again, hard and fast, before returning to slapping. Harder than the last time. Wanting to see just how far he can push him.
In the back of Bradley's mind, he remembers his safeword. Just its existence, and it allows him to breathe again, steadies him, and better yet, lets him loose of some of his self-imposed bonds. Words suddenly come back to him and it's a relief, almost cleansing, to let them out, let the pleading begging broken words out.
"Hurts," he sobs into the crook of his elbow, body jerking with every slap and shivering in-between. He's swaying on his feet, supported only by his tight hold on Louis's shoulders, rocking with every impact. Not moving away. "Hurts, god, so much, pleasepleaseplease, no more, don't stop, please please, OH," another slap, "oh god no more, please..."
"Next time," Louis says, whispering into Bradley's ear, the litany of pleas making his cock ache, his hands starting to numb with the force behind the blows. "Next time, I'm going to put you on your knees, your legs spread, the biggest dildo I can find up your ass, clamps on your nipples and your cock and your balls, and I'm going to do this, exactly like this, one slap after another... until you come screaming..."
The warm velvet voice whispering wicked things in his ear is nearly too much, more stimulation, and the mental image Louis's words conjure up...Bradley's always had a vividly visual imagination and a picture flashes into his mind of the scene Louis is describing. His cry is nearly a wail, and his cock shines with pre-come, the slick head glistening entirely free of the foreskin, as achingly hard as he's ever been.
He desperately needs to come. But so soon after the last time, everything so raw and new, he can't...quite...get there...even with the frustrated movements of his hips, the way he pushes his cock against Louis's hand, he needs something more.
Bradley's struggle is obvious; has Louis so hard he can barely breathe. "I'm tempted to turn the water off. Make you wait until later," he says, gripping Bradley's cock and stroking roughly, his thumbnail pushed hard into the slit. "Maybe put you in a cage - remember? like we talked about? Make you wait until morning."
"You could...you could do that," Bradley chokes out. At this point he's like a liquid in Louis's hands. Anything the man wishes to do to him, he will take with the strange gratitude that comes when he's in his head like this, when everything is soft and quiet and peaceful, and he's given up worrying. The very few times he's felt it with Louis have made him nearly desperate for more. "If you like. If you want. I can wait. I can." It would hurt, god it would hurt. He wonders distantly if he'd be able to sleep. Then the bite of the edge of Louis's fingernail, scoring his slit, the grip of his hand breaks through and Bradley is coming.
A great, heaving sob breaks loose as soon as his orgasm does, and as soon as he's come and the aftershocks hit, he slumps forward into Louis's arms.
"Good boy," Louis praises, holding Bradley close, the boy's words replaying in his head, his willingness, his desire to please, to give himself up, all control over to Louis so quickly, so unquestioningly something he's going to have to think long and hard about. "You were incredible, so good for me," he continues, holding Bradley for a little longer and then getting them both washed and out of the shower, Bradley dried off like a child and guided to bed. "I'm going to get a plate of food and some water," he says, tucking him under the covers and kissing him softly. "And then I'll be right back."
The gentle hands, soft voice, all steady Bradley and the way Louis tenderly moves him, gets him into bed, and even the kiss serve to calm him enough that he lies there, quiet. Watching Louis move around the apartment, feeling all his aches, slowly coming up from wherever he'd been. Slower than ever before, and by the time Louis returns with the food and water, he's not really all there, quite yet.
He just moves over a little, making room silently. Blinking owlishly at Louis and at the food, like it's some alien substance he's never heard of before. He's got a hand curled under his cheek and he's warm and comfortable, on his side, nothing hurting, just drifting.
Louis plumps a few pillows against the headboard and sits down, shifting until he's comfortable. "Come here," he says, making room between his legs for Bradley. "Sit with your back against me and I'll feed you."
"Mmkay." Bradley stretches a little, coming out of his neat little curl, and then wiggles over until he's between Louis's long, long legs, leaning back against his body, head resting in that perfect soft spot just above his collarbone. He sighs with contentment. He feels completely surrounded, warm and safe, and oddly it lets him stay in that delicious headspace even longer, feeling like this.
He makes a sound that's very nearly a purr, turning his head so he can plant a soft, gently sucking kiss on Louis's neck.
"Careful," Louis teases, groaning softly at the feel of Bradley's mouth on his skin. "You might distract me from the food again." He moves the plate in front of them, slices of proscuitto accompanied by chunks of bread and cheese, cantaloupe and strawberries. He wraps a piece of proscuitto around a chunk of cantaloupe and brings it to Bradley's mouth. "Open."
Obediently, Bradley opens. His senses are still hyperactive, so the taste of the melon and proscuitto exploding across his tongue makes him moan out loud. And suddenly he realizes just how thirsty, and hungry, and sore he really is.
"Water, please?" he asks softly, needing it before the next bite if he's to swallow, his mouth is so dry.
Louis switches the plate between hands and reaches for the water, offering it to Bradley.
He knows enough to sip lightly at the water at first, but then brings up a hand to hold the glass, gulping greedily. When it's empty he snuggles back in against Louis, much more comfortable, and starting to feel a touch more awake.
"I didn't know anyone could come that hard and not pass out," he confesses, a little wryly. "Especially not twice in a row." He squirms a little to get comfortable, and feels Louis's cock in the small of his back. "Oh my god!" He sits bolt upright, mortified. "You didn't come!"
"No, but I did the first time," Louis says, holding a chunk of cheese in front of Bradley's mouth. "Eat."
Bradley automatically takes the cheese, chews furiously, and swallows. "But that's not right," he continues, turning a little sideways so he can glance at Louis's face. Mostly, he looks amused, but Bradley is still distressed at his own bad manners. "I mean, you were just as hard as me, and I just kind of collapsed there at the end and I didn't even *think* about whether you'd come or not. That's just no good at all."
"Right now it is," Louis says firmly. "While you're new and learning, the focus should be on you." He takes a bite of cheese. "Besides.... I got a great deal of pleasure out of making you come like that."
"I'm a big boy," Bradley grumbles, nearly under his breath, "I don't need hand-holding and I can do my share." Of course, the way he's snuggled in to the big warm body behind him is a direct contradiction to that, but he's not paying that any mind just now. He opens like a bird to the next bite of melon, and chews while he thinks. His mind still isn't firing on all cylinders, but Louis's cock isn't urgently stiff behind him, and he seems relaxed and genuine in what he's saying, so Bradley, eventually, gives it up and relaxes.
"In that book, most of the time the top--the dominant?--was coming and the bottom wasn't allowed at all," he informs Louis, though. "Not the other way round."
"Well, in that book most of the bottoms aren't anywhere near as hardcore masochists as you're proving to be," Louis counters, reaching behind Bradley to pour another glass of water. "I want the connection between pain and pleasure very firmly connected in your mind before I start not letting you come."
"H-hardcore?" Bradley stutters, taken off-guard when Louis moves, mind whirling at that word. It sounds...intense. And the idea that Louis has this all planned out, that he's doing it deliberately, makes Bradley pause.
"You've actually got a plan, don't you," he murmurs, glancing at Louis through his eyelashes. "You're not doing this off the cuff. You...you hurt me like that, in the shower, so I'd come with my cock nearly burning off with pain, and now I do, I want more, want to see what else there is." He shivers in Louis's arms. "It was more intense than anything I've ever felt. I almost can't believe there can be more."
"There's so much more," Louis tells him, kissing him softly. "And yes, I do have a plan but it's not written in stone. I alter and amend it depending on your reactions, the things you say. And I try to take things slowly because I don't want to risk frightening you off, but you're so incredibly eager." A fact that arouses him like nothing else.
"I tend to leap first, look later," Bradley smiles into the kiss, admitting it. "Why muck about waiting when there are so many things to do? Man of action, that's me." He nips gently at Louis's mouth, just enjoying the contact that Louis gives away as freely as water, like it's endless. Bradley finds himself craving it like water, too. "I read a few things in the book that seemed rather...extreme? Yeah, extreme. But if you'd told me two weeks ago that I'd come like that, from having someone slap my cock, I'd've told you you were mad. So I'm keeping an open mind, and as long as it's okay if I say, if something is scary...?" He trails off, looking to Louis for the answer.
"Of course you can tell me if you don't want to do something," Louis says reassuringly. "Or if you think you'd like to but it looks like too much and you're not sure. We can explore the idea of trying something and talk about it without actually having to carry through. Is that what you mean?"
"Yeah, that's it exactly," Bradley says, relieved. "The vids I've seen had a lot of big men in leather ordering people about, but I know that's just for porn, not real. The book didn't say one way or the other, though it said, one place, that some...slaves? They don't say no, not ever." He looks to Louis again for confirmation. "I'm not totally clear on the roles yet," he confesses. "There seems to be a lot of grey area."
Louis nods. "There is a lot of grey area," he says, feeding Bradley a piece of bread topped with cheese. "Remember we talked about human sexuality being on a spectrum? Well, there is a spectrum for submissiveness as well - ranging from," he pauses, thinking of the best way to explain it, "simply liking to be tied down and maybe spanked on occasion but with no real power play involved to giving up complete control but only in scene to yes, giving up control 24/7, but the last is very rare."
"Oh. Hmm." Bradley chews again, turning that over in his head as he finishes off the delicious bite. "Makes sense. And two people just getting together...how do they figure out where they are on the spectrum? If they're compatible, all that, in their grey areas?" He watches Louis with wide eyes. "How do you figure it out, if you're brand new?"
Louis gives a soft chuckle at that. "Honestly? I'm not sure. I expect it's not much different than vanilla couples figuring out whether they're compatible. You talk, you explore, you compromise. But at the heart of it, I think there has to be a connection," he says, his voice softening a little. "There has to be a feeling you belong with this person."
"That 'click,'" Bradley nods. He ducks his head a little. It's so early in the relationship to be feeling this way, he knows, but he definitely feels that with Louis. The sense that he belongs *right here* in this man's arms, in their bed together, talking quietly and just spending time together. It's more than just the brilliant sex, more than chemistry and kink, it's deeper than that. But he can't confess that now, not to this urbane, sophisticated man. He'd probably run screaming the other direction.
"I'm terribly glad I found you, then," he says more lightly, smiling. "Talking and exploring, it's never been quite so good before, I'll tell you that. And so far the experimentation's been brilliant as well."
"Yes, it has," Louis agrees, smiling, setting the empty plate on the nightstand and wrapping his arms around Bradley. "It's all been wonderful," he says, kissing him softly on the mouth, a nagging voice in the back of his mind - maybe Marie's - reminding him that all this wonderfulness might come to a screeching halt if he doesn't tell Bradley about Citadel, and soon. But the fear that telling him might equally bring a halt to things has him wavering, hesitating, putting it off as long as he can. At the very least he wants to wait until they have another day off together - so he can be there to counter any negative reaction.
Bradley twists a little in his arms so the kiss is at a better angle, gets an arm up and around his neck and shoulder, and just lets himself drown in the kiss. Lazy, long, tongues dancing together and then slipping apart, a kiss without an agenda. It's fantastic and he lets himself relax even further, trusting Louis to support his whole weight as he presses a little closer, gets a little more of a taste. He's curled in Louis's lap now, just where he wants to be.
"I have to work tomorrow," he murmurs regretfully, after a long and delightful interlude of sucking on Louis's tongue. "I dunno why, even, since it's supposed to be a great long bit with just Merlin and his magic, but I'm on the call sheet for the morning, so I can't stay."
The disappointment Louis feels then is crushing and he's sure it shows on his face before he quickly schools his features, covering instantly. "You should have told me," he says, leaning in, their foreheads pressed together. "I wouldn't have pushed you so hard if I'd known you were going to go back to the hotel and spend the night alone."
No matter that Louis controls it immediately, Bradley saw the flash of disappointment cross his handsome face, and it warms him, knowing that he'll be missed. "I didn't even think to," he replies softly, rolling his forehead back and forth against Louis's, almost brushing their noses together. "And I'm glad I didn't," he adds impulsively. "I would've been ever so disappointed if you'd held back, if I'd missed even a moment of that. It was completely spectacular. No regrets, yeah? And I can see you tomorrow, if you're free. Anytime after four, that's when we close up that set."
"I'll make sure I'm free," Louis promises, kissing him softly again, unable to get enough.
"We could meet back here, if you like," Bradley suggests, a little shy about inviting himself, but encouraged by that expression he'd seen cross Louis's fine features . "I don't call until noon, day after. If you wanted to have dinner, something like that. Show me ten more brilliant ways you know how to make a fellow cry." He grins, a bit self-deprecating, as he's never sobbed like that during sex and is just a little embarrassed about it.
"Here would be perfect and I know a lot more than ten," Louis teases, eyes sparkling, back to smiling, "but yes, in one evening, ten would probably be the maximum we could work in."
"Oh my god," Bradley half-laughs, half-moans, closing his eyes and slumping dramatically back, "you'll be the death of me, you know that? The absolute death. I won't be able to keep a single bloody thought in my head tomorrow with that kind of promise hanging over me. I'll just keep *thinking* and *wondering* and then thinking some more, and it'll be a total wreck."
"Well, I could promise to be a perfect gentleman and not touch you at all..."
"GOD no!" Bradley protests, sitting bolt upright again, then realizing that Louis is having him on from the evil twinkle in his eye. He simultaneously feels the twinges of pain from his arse and his cock, too, and glances down, curious to see if there's any outward sign of the pain.
No bruises, though the skin is still reddish, even though he's flaccid now and relaxed. He touches it, gently, with two fingers, and winces just a bit at the raw tender feeling. "Wish I could get rid of this hair," he muses, still looking down. "Like the boys in the book. I liked that look. It'd be a bit hard to explain on set, though." The curls of dark blonde hair on his chest, arrowing down to join the groomed blond bush at the base of his cock, aren't exactly out of control, but he still wishes for that bare, fine appearance he'd seen in the pictures.
"They get to see you naked that much, do they?" Louis asks, having never seen Bradley's show and making a note to try and get it from somewhere.
"Well, half-naked plus a tease on camera," Bradley amends. "I'm not exactly the shy type, though, so yeah, in the wardrobe trailer, I suppose pretty much everyone's got a general idea of how it all looks downstairs."
"You could always tell them you lost a bet," Louis suggests, rather amused by the idea. "Although," he adds, reaching out to give those short coiled hairs a quick tug, "there's good things to be said for this look as well."
Bradley yelps a little, wiggling. "I could hardly *keep* losing bets though, could I? Not really, at least not with anyone believing it. I'm starting to see the appeal. Fewer hand-holds." He mock-glares at Louis.
Louis laughs. "Or you could tell them your boyfriend likes it that way." Enjoying the look on Bradley's face.
After his first moment of joyful shock at hearing Louis refer to himself like that, Bradley actually considers it. "You know...it wouldn't be so bad. It'd be true, too, as far as it goes. Hmm. Something to think about, anyway." He leans in for a quick kiss, light and playful this time. He's not really tired anymore; it seems like the adrenaline rush is lasting much longer this time, and he's still tingling just a little.
"How long can you stay?" Louis asks, hands itching to start touching more of Bradley /again/ but he doesn't want to start anything they won't get to finish.
"Not long," Bradley answers, soft and regretful. "It's an early call and it won't do to show up looking like the undead, especially since I was something of a space case today, waiting for tonight. *And* I've line rewrites to run through before bed, as well. If I don't go soon, I won't go at all." He kisses Louis again, longer this time, deeper and with feeling.
Louis groans into the kiss, his body reacting instinctively. "I guess we'd better put our clothes back on," he says with a soft sigh when they finally part. "I'll walk you to your car."
"Such a gentleman," Bradley teases gently. He even manages a very passable American Southern Belle accent, looking at Louis through his eyelashes. "I do declare, kind sir, you'll have me all a-blush with such attentions." Very, very reluctantly, he starts moving out of Louis's embrace, wondering where exactly he'd left his clothes.
Louis laughs, giving Bradley a gentle swat on the ass as he drags himself from the bed. "Didn't you mention something about make-up and dresses on our first date?" he says, getting a pair of jeans and a black cableknit sweater from his closet. "I'm starting to sense a secret kink..."
Bradley locates his clothing, yanks on his boxer-briefs, and starts on his shirts. "Hardly a secret," he mumbles, pulling the jumper over his head. From inside it, both hands over his head and inside the sleeves, he informs Louis, "I'd wear a dress for you in a heartbeat, the whole deal, makeup and the lot. But not even for you--" his head pops out the collar, hair going everywhere as he pulls it into place, "am I ever in my life getting into a corset again."
"Not even if boys in corsets happens to be my secret kink?" Louis says, keeping a completely straight face as, dressed, he gets his hands on Bradley's hips and pulls him in close again.
Bradley's face falls a little as he takes Louis at his word. "Well," he says, dragging it out, letting himself be reeled in until he's held close again. "I mean. If you really wanted...if it was....I mean, it's a give and take, right? Like being partners? And since you're, um, you, I bet you could probably make it good..." he trails off, hearing the dubiousness in his own voice. He'll never forget the bite of the whalebone and his creaking ribs in that torture device on stage.
Louis laughs, he can't help it. "I'm teasing you," he whispers, kissing Bradley, sucking a little on that pouty lower lip. "I'm not into corsets at all, although I have no doubt you would look very sexy in one."
"Bloody..." Bradley laughs then, too, can't keep up the scowl, not when he's being kissed like this. He wraps his hands around Louis's wrists, where they're resting on his own hips, leans in, and kisses him as hard as he can. "That was very bad," he scolds, mock-severely. "I was scrambling hard, there. I had to wear a corset for a stage role and didn't find it sexy in the least, just bloody irritating and uncomfortable, NOT in a good way."
"That's because no one made any effort to make it pleasurable for you," Louis says, only half-teasing this time. "You'd be surprised what one can find arousing in the right hands." He grins.
"Not anymore I wouldn't," Bradley answers, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Not after what I've seen with clothespins and those little clamps and that plug, thing. Though I'd be pretty shocked if you could make me love a corset. It was a costume, not a sex toy, granted, but that'd be a miracle."
"We'll see," Louis says mysteriously, smiling as he takes Bradley's hand in his and kisses the back, still far too tempted to push Bradley back against the kitchen island and... "I should see you to your car - before I decide to keep you here."
"And I should get to my car, before I decide to just grab onto your shoes and not let go till you drag me out like some screaming toddler," Bradley answers, stroking his hands restlessly up and down the flat planes of Louis's flanks, down to his thighs, up to his waist again. The courtly gesture of having his hand kissed makes him strangely flustered, and he pulls free hastily, before he really *does* just fling himself at Louis's knees.
His head is starting to ache; exhaustion, he thinks, and a bit of stress, and all the crying. He touches his temple, rubbing it a little, and then smiles at Louis. "Yeah, it's time to go. Time for me to hit the road before I get *too* tired. And then I can dream about all the things we'll get up to tomorrow!"
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