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bjames (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bjames) wrote,@ 2011-12-13 19:26:00 |
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A very good morning with Bradley James and louis_garneau, con't
Backdated. Immediately follows part one. Players only.
"Mmmmpf," Bradley grumbles into Louis's skin, but he does start to pull himself back together, try to get his arms and legs working again. Does his level best to ignore the throbbing need in his cock, though he freezes and hisses out a breath when he sits up too fast, his ass sore enough that even that makes itself felt.
Louis stands, holding out his hand to Bradley. "You can't be doing that all day," he teases. "Or everyone will know exactly what's going on."
"We could just stay in," Bradley suggests, flirting at Louis through his eyelashes, taking his hand to ease himself off the bed, not-wincing with the ease of long practice after football matches and various on-set injuries. He takes a deep breath and straightens up, willing himself to ignore his erection, still stiff, and follows Louis to the shower.
"Not a chance," Louis says, blasting the shower until it's nice and hot before he steps in, Bradley tugged in behind him. "I want to torment you in public."
Bradley barely stifles his whimper at that thought, but the hot water feels brilliant against his skin, loosening tight muscles and easing stiffness he hadn't even noticed. He luxuriates in it for a few long moments, letting it sluice away the sticky evidence of their amazing sex, even feeling his erection start to go down. As long as he keeps from looking at Louis directly.
Louis picks up a bar of soap and starts washing both of them, his hands moving of their bodies quickly and efficiently. While he wants to torment his boy, he also wants to get him into the cage, and arousing him again would delay both.
Louis isn't teasing with his washing, isn't playing about, and Bradley lets the hands just rub him down and get him clean, enjoying the whole process of getting clean and refreshed. He turns his face into the water, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, leaning against Louis's strong body for support. "Mmmm," he sighs cheerfully. "Marvelous."
"Would you like a few minutes longer? Or are you going to get out with me?" Louis asks, kissing the top of Bradley's head, his hands on his hips, resisting the urge to move, stroke, caress.
"It's not nearly as fun without you," Bradley answers, leaning back into Louis's touch. "I'll get out with you."
"Good," Louis murmurs, smiling, turning the shower off. He wraps a large bath towel around Bradley, quickly dries his own hair and wraps another towel around his hips and then finishes drying Bradley. "Go sit on the end of the bed and wait for me," he tells him. "And no touching."
Bradley raises his eyebrows at that. "I wouldn't," he protests. "I've been trying to think of the unsexiest things I can--like liver and onions, ugh--and I can't let all that hard brainwork go to waste." He heads out of the bathroom obediently, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. Grateful that it's so soft, though the hot water has relaxed him and eased some of the ache.
Louis finishes drying himself and tidies the bathroom before heading back out with the cage in hand. "Spread your legs," he orders, pulling up a chair between Bradley's thighs.
Just that commanding note in Louis's voice has Bradley groaning and slapping a hand over his eyes, struggling to keep himself under control, even as he obediently spreads his knees wide. Sore muscles in his thighs twinge, and it isn't helping. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down, and only then dares to remove his hand and look at Louis.
"Have I mentioned how I love the way you react to me?" Louis says conversationally, taking Bradley in hand and working the parts of plastic cage around his balls and over his cock.
"Yes...no...I'm not sure," Bradley breathes, not paying attention to what he's saying as Louis works the cage onto him. It's familiar and shocking, all at the same time, and his gut clenches with want even as his ability to get hard is removed from his own control.
Once the lock clicks into place he sighs out the breath he's holding, tipping forward to press his face into Louis's shoulder, weak with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," he murmurs into the warm, still-damp skin.
"You're welcome," Louis murmurs, smiling, hugging Bradley for a moment before he pulls back. "Now turn around. Hands and knees."
Bradley's startled, his eyes fly up to Louis's face. "What...I mean--" catching himself, reminding himself that he's Louis's boy, here to do as he says, he closes his mouth with a snap and turns, getting his knees up on the bed, propping his hands on the bed, too. Still confused, but obedient.
"Good boy." Louis moves to the bedside table and comes back with a thick black plug, nicely flared at the base, and some lube. He slicks the plug and rubs the tip over Bradley's hole, teasing it in and out a few times before twisting it in all the way.
His hole is still raw, swollen and sore, and as Louis presses the plug inside him Bradley nearly lurches up off his hands and knees, a flinch that moves through his whole body. The burn is enough to get him gasping, sweat prickling across his shoulders as his cock tries to fill. It's futile, aching, and Bradley reminds himself to breathe as the solid weight of the plug settles inside him.
"Now you can get dressed and join me for breakfast," Louis says, moving to the armoire to the pull out his own clothes for the day.
Bradley drops his head down, letting it hang between his shoulders for a long moment, just getting his heartrate back down and his brain back on track. When he carefully eases himself off the bed and to his own side of the bureau, at least his face isn't quite so red.
He hopes Louis will let him stand up to eat breakfast. Every time he moves the plug nudges his prostate, and it's seriously distracting.
"It's our first day as flatmates," he points out to Louis as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. "What've you got planned for us?"
"The market. I thought we'd get some things for a picnic lunch, dinner, and then we can bring them back here, go for a drive. There's a few castles and gardens you haven't seen yet." And lots of quiet corners where no one will stumble on them.
Blanching just a bit at the thought of hiking about in castles with the plug nudging at his insides with every step, his cock caged and aching, Bradley huffs a breath and nods, grinning wryly at himself. He knows he's signed on for this. He knows he'll love it. And he knows it's going to be agony. Even tying his trainers is a challenge, the way everything shifts and moves, but then he's done and knows his face is flushed red. "I'm ready," he tells Louis. He can do this.
Louis smiles. "Breakfast here or should we grab a pastry on the way?" He was thinking here but with Bradley raring to go, maybe it's better to seize the moment.
"Here," Bradley agrees instantly, sighing in relief. A little more time to get used to the nerves firing all through him every time he moves, the bite of pain and the ache of frustration, overlaid with the pleasure each time the plug brushes his prostate. "Definitely here. As long as I'm not to cook it."
"Have a seat," Louis tells him, motioning toward the barstools in front of the kitchen island. "Omelette? I have some chorizo and onion and tomato."
Gingerly sitting, Bradley nods, suddenly and ravenously hungry. "That sounds perfect," and he tries to make his voice not sound like it does when he's turned on, but seriously. Breakfast. He brings up his knees to prop his feet on the bars of the stool, and freezes instantly, the plug prodding at him, inside. His face burns, and he sucks in a few quick breaths, his belly shivering with want.
"If you keep looking like that," Louis informs him, pulling the various ingredients from the fridge, "I'll have to fuck you again before we go out."
That pulls a little huff of laughter out of Bradley, and his face gets even hotter. "I can't help it," he confesses, squirming as he tries to find a single comfortable position. "I don't know how I'm looking. I just, it's so much." And the warm thread of desire running through him, the idea of Louis using him like this, caged and prepped and sore and aching, without any chance of relief or release...he knows he's dropping even deeper into subspace when he can't look away from Louis as he moves about the kitchen, his own eyes feeling heavy, nearly sleepy with desire.
"You look like you need to be fucked," Louis says bluntly as he quickly dices the onions and tomato. "You're blushing, your eyes half-closed, and you're squirming..." It's making Louis hard again already, and luckily he can cook without paying the food almost any attention or they'd both be going hungry this morning.
"There's a great bloody big plug up my arse, I can't help the squirming," Bradley protests, though his voice is syrup-slow and has a rasp to it that he didn't intend, and he tries to stop the shifting back and forth. "And the cage. And...everything." He takes another deep breath, propping his cheek on his hand, eyes never leaving Louis.
"Do I sound like I'm complaining?" Louis teases, chopping up the chorizo.
"Well, it did sound a bit like a warning," Bradley confesses, smiling at the touch of laughter in Louis's voice. "Believe me, I've learnt well that you're not a man for bluffing."
Louis smiles. Bradley knows him indeed. "Would you rather I didn't I warn you?" he asks, heating up a pan and breaking a half dozen eggs into a bowl.
"No, no," Bradley laughs, waving a hand in the air, as the smell of good things cooking provides a distraction from his oversensitive body. "No, warning is good, it's very gentlemanly of you. Gives me time to brace myself, at least." And even though he's still flushed red and his heart is still beating heavy, he's at least managed to stop the squirming about. For now.
Louis pours half the egg mixture into a pan and rolls it around, making sure the bottom is well-coated. "Could you grab a couple of plates and pour us some juice?" he says, knowing damn well he's making his poor boy move again. Just when he's gotten comfortable.
Taking a deep breath, Bradley nods, and slides carefully off his stool again, biting his lip against the wince and shiver that follow. He has to walk carefully, but he's getting more comfortable with the hard, unforgiving press of the plug inside him, and by the time he's pouring the juice, he's almost breathing normally again.
"Thank you," Louis says softly, flipping the omelette and adding the toppings before folding it in half. "You can take a seat again when you're done."
"All right." Bradley sets the table and eases back into his seat, wary now, suspicious of how offhand Louis is being, more than a little curious to see what other creative torments his sir might be planning for him.
"You look like you're expecting me to eat you for breakfast," Louis observes with a smile, sliding the omelette onto a plate and handing over to Bradley before starting his own.
Guessing that Louis won't mind if he starts right away--nothing more nasty than cold eggs!--Bradley digs right in. "I wouldn't put it past you," he answers, after a moment to think about it. "I am, after all, totally at your mercy, here. Can't even run, since this is home, now."
"True," Louis says softly, thinking that through. "Would you like to have times when I can't just do whatever I want with you?" he asks. "Or do you prefer it this way? Where, once you're home, you're mine. Completely."
Bradley takes a long moment, giving the question the consideration it deserves. No quick, impulsive answer will do, here. He dips his head, finally, knowing the tips of his ears are burning red. "I like being yours, here. Completely." His voice is rough, a little low. It's the truth; he doesn't want an escape from this, an out. He wants it with everything in him.
Louis nods. "Good. I like it that way too," he confesses, sliding his own omelette onto a second plate and turning off the stove.
Bradley's smile in response is a little shy around the edges, pleased and warm. He's read enough now to know how lucky they are to be so compatible in even things that seem so small...and how fortunate he is that Louis is so comfortable discussing every aspect of their lives together.
The cage is a dull ache against his cock, which tries to fill as the plug keeps torturing his prostate, but he sets his mind to eating and ignoring it as best he can.
Louis takes a seat beside Bradley and they polish off their breakfast in companionable silence. When they're done, Louis gathers their plates and slips them into the dishwasher. "Are you ready to go?"
Bradley nods, patting his now-full stomach. "I'd no idea how hungry I was, until there was food." He thinks wistfully about his diet, mentally resolves to get back to it once he's well-settled, and then shakes the thought away. "I'm ready."
"Good." Louis takes Bradley's hand and pulls him in close, diving deeply into his mouth, his free hand sliding down Bradley's back, to his ass, fingers pressing the base of the plug deeper into him.
All of Bradley's hard-won composure vanishes in a flash. As soon as Louis's clever, wicked fingers press on the plug, pushing it into him, he's moaning and gasping into the kiss, hips bucking up and then back, seeking escape that he can't find.
"You make me want you so badly," Louis murmurs, working the plug into Bradley, his teeth nipping at Bradley's mouth, at his lips. "Test every bit of self-control I possess."
"So glad I've the cage on," Bradley moans against his mouth, shivering at the cool, slick bite of Louis's teeth. "I'd never have the control, else. Oh!" A stronger push from Louis's fingers shoves the plug in deeper yet, and he rocks up onto his toes, leaning almost all his weight on Louis, body fighting to escape the burning agony in his raw hole, the rush of painful pleasure from his overstimulated prostate. He tangles his fingers in Louis's shirt to stop the shaking.
Louis groans and forces himself to pull back. "Shopping. Now," he orders, picking up his wallet from the counter and motioning Bradley towards the front door.
Biting back the whimper that's fighting to get out of his throat, Bradley nods, jaw tight, and moves towards the door ahead of Louis. If he's going over his multiplication tables and his lines for next week's shoot in a desperate attempt to get his body back to the point where he can walk without his knees shaking--well, at least he's keeping it quiet.
Feedback welcome, all comments screened
louis_garneau, con'tBackdated. Immediately follows part one. Players only.
"Mmmmpf," Bradley grumbles into Louis's skin, but he does start to pull himself back together, try to get his arms and legs working again. Does his level best to ignore the throbbing need in his cock, though he freezes and hisses out a breath when he sits up too fast, his ass sore enough that even that makes itself felt.
Louis stands, holding out his hand to Bradley. "You can't be doing that all day," he teases. "Or everyone will know exactly what's going on."
"We could just stay in," Bradley suggests, flirting at Louis through his eyelashes, taking his hand to ease himself off the bed, not-wincing with the ease of long practice after football matches and various on-set injuries. He takes a deep breath and straightens up, willing himself to ignore his erection, still stiff, and follows Louis to the shower.
"Not a chance," Louis says, blasting the shower until it's nice and hot before he steps in, Bradley tugged in behind him. "I want to torment you in public."
Bradley barely stifles his whimper at that thought, but the hot water feels brilliant against his skin, loosening tight muscles and easing stiffness he hadn't even noticed. He luxuriates in it for a few long moments, letting it sluice away the sticky evidence of their amazing sex, even feeling his erection start to go down. As long as he keeps from looking at Louis directly.
Louis picks up a bar of soap and starts washing both of them, his hands moving of their bodies quickly and efficiently. While he wants to torment his boy, he also wants to get him into the cage, and arousing him again would delay both.
Louis isn't teasing with his washing, isn't playing about, and Bradley lets the hands just rub him down and get him clean, enjoying the whole process of getting clean and refreshed. He turns his face into the water, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, leaning against Louis's strong body for support. "Mmmm," he sighs cheerfully. "Marvelous."
"Would you like a few minutes longer? Or are you going to get out with me?" Louis asks, kissing the top of Bradley's head, his hands on his hips, resisting the urge to move, stroke, caress.
"It's not nearly as fun without you," Bradley answers, leaning back into Louis's touch. "I'll get out with you."
"Good," Louis murmurs, smiling, turning the shower off. He wraps a large bath towel around Bradley, quickly dries his own hair and wraps another towel around his hips and then finishes drying Bradley. "Go sit on the end of the bed and wait for me," he tells him. "And no touching."
Bradley raises his eyebrows at that. "I wouldn't," he protests. "I've been trying to think of the unsexiest things I can--like liver and onions, ugh--and I can't let all that hard brainwork go to waste." He heads out of the bathroom obediently, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. Grateful that it's so soft, though the hot water has relaxed him and eased some of the ache.
Louis finishes drying himself and tidies the bathroom before heading back out with the cage in hand. "Spread your legs," he orders, pulling up a chair between Bradley's thighs.
Just that commanding note in Louis's voice has Bradley groaning and slapping a hand over his eyes, struggling to keep himself under control, even as he obediently spreads his knees wide. Sore muscles in his thighs twinge, and it isn't helping. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down, and only then dares to remove his hand and look at Louis.
"Have I mentioned how I love the way you react to me?" Louis says conversationally, taking Bradley in hand and working the parts of plastic cage around his balls and over his cock.
"Yes...no...I'm not sure," Bradley breathes, not paying attention to what he's saying as Louis works the cage onto him. It's familiar and shocking, all at the same time, and his gut clenches with want even as his ability to get hard is removed from his own control.
Once the lock clicks into place he sighs out the breath he's holding, tipping forward to press his face into Louis's shoulder, weak with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," he murmurs into the warm, still-damp skin.
"You're welcome," Louis murmurs, smiling, hugging Bradley for a moment before he pulls back. "Now turn around. Hands and knees."
Bradley's startled, his eyes fly up to Louis's face. "What...I mean--" catching himself, reminding himself that he's Louis's boy, here to do as he says, he closes his mouth with a snap and turns, getting his knees up on the bed, propping his hands on the bed, too. Still confused, but obedient.
"Good boy." Louis moves to the bedside table and comes back with a thick black plug, nicely flared at the base, and some lube. He slicks the plug and rubs the tip over Bradley's hole, teasing it in and out a few times before twisting it in all the way.
His hole is still raw, swollen and sore, and as Louis presses the plug inside him Bradley nearly lurches up off his hands and knees, a flinch that moves through his whole body. The burn is enough to get him gasping, sweat prickling across his shoulders as his cock tries to fill. It's futile, aching, and Bradley reminds himself to breathe as the solid weight of the plug settles inside him.
"Now you can get dressed and join me for breakfast," Louis says, moving to the armoire to the pull out his own clothes for the day.
Bradley drops his head down, letting it hang between his shoulders for a long moment, just getting his heartrate back down and his brain back on track. When he carefully eases himself off the bed and to his own side of the bureau, at least his face isn't quite so red.
He hopes Louis will let him stand up to eat breakfast. Every time he moves the plug nudges his prostate, and it's seriously distracting.
"It's our first day as flatmates," he points out to Louis as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. "What've you got planned for us?"
"The market. I thought we'd get some things for a picnic lunch, dinner, and then we can bring them back here, go for a drive. There's a few castles and gardens you haven't seen yet." And lots of quiet corners where no one will stumble on them.
Blanching just a bit at the thought of hiking about in castles with the plug nudging at his insides with every step, his cock caged and aching, Bradley huffs a breath and nods, grinning wryly at himself. He knows he's signed on for this. He knows he'll love it. And he knows it's going to be agony. Even tying his trainers is a challenge, the way everything shifts and moves, but then he's done and knows his face is flushed red. "I'm ready," he tells Louis. He can do this.
Louis smiles. "Breakfast here or should we grab a pastry on the way?" He was thinking here but with Bradley raring to go, maybe it's better to seize the moment.
"Here," Bradley agrees instantly, sighing in relief. A little more time to get used to the nerves firing all through him every time he moves, the bite of pain and the ache of frustration, overlaid with the pleasure each time the plug brushes his prostate. "Definitely here. As long as I'm not to cook it."
"Have a seat," Louis tells him, motioning toward the barstools in front of the kitchen island. "Omelette? I have some chorizo and onion and tomato."
Gingerly sitting, Bradley nods, suddenly and ravenously hungry. "That sounds perfect," and he tries to make his voice not sound like it does when he's turned on, but seriously. Breakfast. He brings up his knees to prop his feet on the bars of the stool, and freezes instantly, the plug prodding at him, inside. His face burns, and he sucks in a few quick breaths, his belly shivering with want.
"If you keep looking like that," Louis informs him, pulling the various ingredients from the fridge, "I'll have to fuck you again before we go out."
That pulls a little huff of laughter out of Bradley, and his face gets even hotter. "I can't help it," he confesses, squirming as he tries to find a single comfortable position. "I don't know how I'm looking. I just, it's so much." And the warm thread of desire running through him, the idea of Louis using him like this, caged and prepped and sore and aching, without any chance of relief or release...he knows he's dropping even deeper into subspace when he can't look away from Louis as he moves about the kitchen, his own eyes feeling heavy, nearly sleepy with desire.
"You look like you need to be fucked," Louis says bluntly as he quickly dices the onions and tomato. "You're blushing, your eyes half-closed, and you're squirming..." It's making Louis hard again already, and luckily he can cook without paying the food almost any attention or they'd both be going hungry this morning.
"There's a great bloody big plug up my arse, I can't help the squirming," Bradley protests, though his voice is syrup-slow and has a rasp to it that he didn't intend, and he tries to stop the shifting back and forth. "And the cage. And...everything." He takes another deep breath, propping his cheek on his hand, eyes never leaving Louis.
"Do I sound like I'm complaining?" Louis teases, chopping up the chorizo.
"Well, it did sound a bit like a warning," Bradley confesses, smiling at the touch of laughter in Louis's voice. "Believe me, I've learnt well that you're not a man for bluffing."
Louis smiles. Bradley knows him indeed. "Would you rather I didn't I warn you?" he asks, heating up a pan and breaking a half dozen eggs into a bowl.
"No, no," Bradley laughs, waving a hand in the air, as the smell of good things cooking provides a distraction from his oversensitive body. "No, warning is good, it's very gentlemanly of you. Gives me time to brace myself, at least." And even though he's still flushed red and his heart is still beating heavy, he's at least managed to stop the squirming about. For now.
Louis pours half the egg mixture into a pan and rolls it around, making sure the bottom is well-coated. "Could you grab a couple of plates and pour us some juice?" he says, knowing damn well he's making his poor boy move again. Just when he's gotten comfortable.
Taking a deep breath, Bradley nods, and slides carefully off his stool again, biting his lip against the wince and shiver that follow. He has to walk carefully, but he's getting more comfortable with the hard, unforgiving press of the plug inside him, and by the time he's pouring the juice, he's almost breathing normally again.
"Thank you," Louis says softly, flipping the omelette and adding the toppings before folding it in half. "You can take a seat again when you're done."
"All right." Bradley sets the table and eases back into his seat, wary now, suspicious of how offhand Louis is being, more than a little curious to see what other creative torments his sir might be planning for him.
"You look like you're expecting me to eat you for breakfast," Louis observes with a smile, sliding the omelette onto a plate and handing over to Bradley before starting his own.
Guessing that Louis won't mind if he starts right away--nothing more nasty than cold eggs!--Bradley digs right in. "I wouldn't put it past you," he answers, after a moment to think about it. "I am, after all, totally at your mercy, here. Can't even run, since this is home, now."
"True," Louis says softly, thinking that through. "Would you like to have times when I can't just do whatever I want with you?" he asks. "Or do you prefer it this way? Where, once you're home, you're mine. Completely."
Bradley takes a long moment, giving the question the consideration it deserves. No quick, impulsive answer will do, here. He dips his head, finally, knowing the tips of his ears are burning red. "I like being yours, here. Completely." His voice is rough, a little low. It's the truth; he doesn't want an escape from this, an out. He wants it with everything in him.
Louis nods. "Good. I like it that way too," he confesses, sliding his own omelette onto a second plate and turning off the stove.
Bradley's smile in response is a little shy around the edges, pleased and warm. He's read enough now to know how lucky they are to be so compatible in even things that seem so small...and how fortunate he is that Louis is so comfortable discussing every aspect of their lives together.
The cage is a dull ache against his cock, which tries to fill as the plug keeps torturing his prostate, but he sets his mind to eating and ignoring it as best he can.
Louis takes a seat beside Bradley and they polish off their breakfast in companionable silence. When they're done, Louis gathers their plates and slips them into the dishwasher. "Are you ready to go?"
Bradley nods, patting his now-full stomach. "I'd no idea how hungry I was, until there was food." He thinks wistfully about his diet, mentally resolves to get back to it once he's well-settled, and then shakes the thought away. "I'm ready."
"Good." Louis takes Bradley's hand and pulls him in close, diving deeply into his mouth, his free hand sliding down Bradley's back, to his ass, fingers pressing the base of the plug deeper into him.
All of Bradley's hard-won composure vanishes in a flash. As soon as Louis's clever, wicked fingers press on the plug, pushing it into him, he's moaning and gasping into the kiss, hips bucking up and then back, seeking escape that he can't find.
"You make me want you so badly," Louis murmurs, working the plug into Bradley, his teeth nipping at Bradley's mouth, at his lips. "Test every bit of self-control I possess."
"So glad I've the cage on," Bradley moans against his mouth, shivering at the cool, slick bite of Louis's teeth. "I'd never have the control, else. Oh!" A stronger push from Louis's fingers shoves the plug in deeper yet, and he rocks up onto his toes, leaning almost all his weight on Louis, body fighting to escape the burning agony in his raw hole, the rush of painful pleasure from his overstimulated prostate. He tangles his fingers in Louis's shirt to stop the shaking.
Louis groans and forces himself to pull back. "Shopping. Now," he orders, picking up his wallet from the counter and motioning Bradley towards the front door.
Biting back the whimper that's fighting to get out of his throat, Bradley nods, jaw tight, and moves towards the door ahead of Louis. If he's going over his multiplication tables and his lines for next week's shoot in a desperate attempt to get his body back to the point where he can walk without his knees shaking--well, at least he's keeping it quiet.
Feedback welcome, all comments screened
