(Not) Travis Fimmel

[Current - Citadel restaurant]

[Comments welcome and loved]


The day had gone by fairly uneventfully with the appointments seemingly blending one into the other - until this last one. As he slips into his own clothing, Travis still isn't sure where the guy learned to do that with a flogger and a whip, but the bloke was bloody good with what he used and Travis has no doubt as he glances in the mirror at his back and ass that he'll want the next day off to let the beaten, although unbroken, skin heal some, and hoping George is prepared for doctoring.

He loves the feel of his skin like it is, but putting on clothing over it is always just a bit more than Travis finds he wants to do; the material rubs the welts with every move he makes but it's the simple fact that the clothing covers up the marks he earns through a session that always has him a little down. Clad in his flip-flops, light cotton shirt and cotton drawstring pants, Travis decides to make his way to the restaurant for beer since his shift is over for the day, order some food to take home to George. He enters the area, orders, then slides carefully into a booth, relaxing back against the cool leather of the seat. "Travis, you've got to be a fool for liking this job as much as you do," he sighs out as he leans back and closes his eyes, knowing it's the effects of the job and not the job itself he loves.

Pierce has spent the day doing interviews regarding an environmental issue. His sentiments are in the right place, and he finds it frustrating that he has to keep rounding the journalists back to the issue at hand rather than what Mr. Ex Bond is filming next. With a tired sigh he enters the bar seeking a long drink.

Eyes closed, Travis blinks them open as the waitress brings the tall mug and the basket of fries then he looks up with a thankful smile. "Ahh yeah, just what the doc ordered, yeah. I'll pick up the rest before I leave, thanks." He passes the girl a tip then shifts forward in the booth, face drawing up into a wince at the scrape of skin across material. "Knew I should'a put more salve on." His attention is quickly drawn in by the tall mug of beer and the salty french fries - to which he adds a very decent amount of ketchup.

Pierce smells chips and realizes he is hungry. He is just about to go order when he notices a familiar blond head in the direction of said enticing scent. Travis. He smiles and heads over. "Mind sharing?" he grins.

A golden strip of food tucked firmly between his lips, Travis hears the voice and, as a slow grin spreads across his face, he looks up. "H'llo there, stranger," he says with a motion toward the booth, "and by all means, I'd love the company." Wincing slightly as he moves in the booth, Travis exhales in a slow, controlled manner as he tries to play off the movement.

"You hurt yourself or something? Pulled a groin muscle playing that 'thing' you call 'Aussie rules'?" Pierce asks noticing the way Travis shifts awkwardly.

Travis knows what his job consists of and it's not usually something he has casual conversation about, but he trusts Pierce enough to speak freely with the man. "Wicked session at the end of the day. Bloke decided I needed a patchwork quilt on my back and ass." Travis' voice is soft, hesitant - and he can't help but wonder just how people see him with what he does for a living.

"Wicked in a good way?" Pierce asks a little protectively.

He thinks for a moment as the muscles in his back shift under the warm skin then nods. "Yeah, yeah it was. Just, well...sometimes the pain after 's more intense than the actual strikes. Welts up in a wicked way." He can feel his cheeks heat with the topic of conversation but so far, Pierce doesn't seem put-off.

Welts up in a wicked way.

Pierce inhales just a little deeper and licks his lips. "Still burning, huh?"

Pausing mid-bite, Travis catches the odd little look on Pierce's face, wondering if he's about to get lectured for his job. "Yeah," Travis says with a nod, "that layering thing gets me. Hurts for a couple days after." Not to mention what it does to my cock, he thinks to himself.

"I want to see," escapes Pierce's lips.

Travis swallows the food in his mouth, his eyes widening as he takes a drink. Pierce has never shown a desire to beat him, so it takes him a bit off guard. "You want to see? Uhm, sure. I'm off now, but we could go up to an empty room or out to the bar."

"Empty room," Pierce almost orders taking Travis' hand and not forcing it but guiding it and the fry back to the plate. "Now."

Slipping easily into the submissive mindset, and more than a little shocked at the firmness in Pierce's tone, Travis nods as he drops the food to the plate. "Yes Sir," he murmurs, then motions for a waiter. Within moments, an empty room is secured and Travis smiles toward Pierce, "After you?" He hands the keycard to the room over then waits.

"I'm not here to scene, Travis," Pierce makes it clear as he enters. "However, I...I want to see your marks."

Well, that's an odd comment, he thinks to himself as they enter. "I wasn't thinking that," he says as he moves to the middle of the room and carefully strips from his shirt, hissing out a breath as the material skims over his back.

Pierce takes in the criss-cross of red welts. He reaches out a hand and can feel the heat still radiating from Travis' skin.

"You enjoyed having this done? It wasn't just a job to you?"

Standing still as he can, Travis' arms relax at his sides as he nods to the question. "I do. Sometimes they get pretty extreme, but with my being a two-stripe, it prevents them from doing real damage." His lashes flutter as he feels Pierce move closer, and a smile comes to his face. "Do you like?"

Pierce nods as his finger connects with flesh.

Travis remains steady but winces at the touch to his heated skin. "Sometimes the after 's nearly as good as the during."

"I'd appreciate this better if it were my handiwork, but it feels good." He smooths his hand more firmly over the reddened skin and his mouth twitches as Travis flinches. "Did he fuck you right after he did this?"

"Your work?" The phrase catches Travis off guard since he wasn't aware, until this point, that Pierce even liked marking up someone. The stance doesn't change, but hands clench and release as Pierce presses against marked flesh, sending bolts of pain through his system just as the words from the other man sends a blush to Travis' face. "Yes," he answers simply.

"Impatient," Pierce growls. "He would have been better waiting a few hours until the pain had really settled in. If he wanted to hurt you, and you really wanted to be hurt now would be best. His hunger got the better of him." His gaze is settled straight into Travis' eyes.

"Well, most that come here only want a boy for a few hours and it's usually just a couple. 's rare for them to actually hang around for hours." It throws Travis to hear Pierce speaking like he is but the effect of the tone isn't lost at all as the Aussie's cock throbs in his pants. "The thighs are the worst."

"Take your pants off...show me."

Without thinking on it, Travis reaches and tugs down his pants, a soft whimper leaving him as the material skims over his hips and thighs. "They won't scar, but the welts are enough to last for days."

Pierce surveys the now totally naked Travis before him. He beckons him closer and runs a hand over the marks; rather more roughly this time.

Travis' eyes slam shut as the man's hand finds his heated skin. "Nnyahh, god." He doesn't pull away from the touch, but his chin tips upward, flesh screaming out from the pressure against it. Pierce is right - the pain is always worse later.

"Good?" Pierce checks.

Nodding, Travis pants lightly against the stinging pain, "Yes. Bad too, but...still good."

Pierce suddenly pushes Travis down onto the bed and settles himself between his legs to nip at his thigh.

"Next time I'll be the one doing this, and I'll do a better job." It's his 'play arrogant' line, but he knows it will have an effect as he gets up and walks to the door. He looks over his shoulder. "You'll be mended from all this in about five days. Call me then."

The yelp that leaves him as he hits the bed is half pain and half surprise but the sound quickly turns to a moan as Pierce bites at his skin. The look on his face quickly turns from pleasure to confusion when as soon as Pierce is on him, he's gone and moving toward the door. Travis looks toward the man with pinched brows. "Uhm, five days, yes Sir?"

Pierce pauses in the doorway. "I said five days boy." And he is gone.

Continues on here (link to come)