Louis Garneau

Louis Garneau and Bradley James (bjames): Meeting the Parents

jennandanica@gmail.com — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 14:55:18 GMT

players only. backdated. takes place not too long after Louis and Bradley have a very good morning indeed.

Bradley knows he's lucky; the relationship he's got with his mum and dad is solid gold. They'd arrived at the chateau beaming, his mum chattering on about the limousine Louis had sent for them at the airport, and they'd been briskly appreciative of the luxury accommodations whilst setting down their bags. His mum's already making a pot of tea, and he's been sitting with his dad, chatting, just catching up on everything he's missed back home.

"Here, have a cuppa," his mum offers, bringing in the pot and cups and tucking herself into one of the high-backed chairs once she's poured all round. "And tell us all about your young man. Really, Bradley, we could have stayed at a bed and breakfast!" She smiles at him, pale blond hair and sweet face, beloved, his MUM is here and he can't help but beam back at her, thinking about Louis.

"He's terribly posh," Bradley starts, and his dad chuffs out a laugh, and Bradley can't help but join in. "All right, all right. He's not JUST posh, though. He's a bit of a workaholic, but he's fantastic about getting back in time for supper. He's funny, but might not show it for a bit. He's really brilliant, mum, and he's about the greatest boyfriend I've ever heard of."

"Tell me he at least likes the football," his dad demands, and Bradley grins.

"He likes it when *I* play," he offers, and his mum giggles, setting him off again. "We watch the matches, he's not a crazy fan or anything, but we've got plenty in common. Anyway, you can ask him yourself, he should be getting here shortly, unless there's traffic."

Louis leaves his office as soon as he can, eye on the clock the whole time he's reviewing the training logs. It's only a twenty minute drive to the chateau he's put Bradley's parents up in but the traffic at this time of day can get quite heavy. As he leaves, Marie teases him about whether he's going to bring his future in-laws to see where he works and he makes a face at her. That would go over well, he's sure.

He makes it to the chateau in twenty-five, only a few minutes later than planned, parking his car in the curved driveway and ringing the bell as though he himself were a guest. The butler lets him in and he makes his way to the quarters they've given over to Bradley's parents for the long weekend. There, he knocks on the door, as nervous as he was on the day he collared his boy.

Bradley bounces up off the couch as soon as the bell rings, amused that Louis is ringing at the door in his own bloody chateau. "No taking the piss," he warns his parents, grinning over his shoulder at the glint in his mother's eye as he heads to the door to greet Louis. "I know how you get, be nice, mum."

As soon as the door opens he leans up, still smiling, to kiss Louis on the mouth, take his hand and pull him in. "Hey," he murmurs low. "You made it in record time! They're all settled in and we're having a cuppa, come join."

"Are they happy with their quarters?" Louis asks, linking their fingers and giving Bradley a smile. "We can always move them if there's anything they're lacking."

"No," Bradley laughs up at him, tugging him gently along. "They're definitely not lacking anything. Don't let their stiff upper lip fool you, they're terribly impressed by how posh this place is, and my mother's already made tea, it wouldn't do to uproot them now. Now come in and say hello." He smiles at his parents' expectant faces as he walks in with Louis. "Mum, Dad, this is Louis."

His dad stands up and extends his hand for a handshake, looking cautiously pleased. "Pleasure. Please, call me Frank."

"Merci. It's a pleasure to meet you, Frank," Louis says, shaking his hand firmly before turning to Bradley's mum and taking her hand, his lips pressed to the back. "And you as well, Madame James."

"Oh, please, call me Martha," Bradley's mum practically coos at Louis, and Bradley rolls his eyes where he's careful no one can see. Of COURSE his mum adores Louis. All women seem to adore Louis. "Come in, sit down, please, let me pour you some tea. You simply must tell us more about your work here in France! This place is just stunning, isn't it, Frank? Far more than we could have expected for a simple visit. You really shouldn't have gone to the trouble."

Bradley's dad just nods, well-used to his wife's chatter, grins at Bradley, and settles himself back down. As if he's watching a show, Bradley thinks uncharitably.

"It was no trouble at all," Louis says, taking a seat, "and there's very little to tell. My family owns a chain of luxury membership-only resorts and I'm in charge of the day-to-day operations."

"That sounds so glamorous," Martha sighs, with a smile to Louis, handing him a full cup of tea with a little saucer. "And it must be lovely for Bradley, I know he's always felt a bit guilty about gadding about all over Europe doing his acting, while his boyfriends stay at home."

"Mum," Bradley protests. "You make it sound like I was going off to war and leaving the wife on the homefront!"

Louis bites back a smile. "It can be glamorous sometimes, but mostly it's a lot of work and a lot of travelling, so I'm lucky Bradley understands as well."

"I am NOT the little lady knitting in the garret, I travel nearly as much as Louis does," Bradley informs her, not even trying to hide his own smile. "And he does all the cooking."

"That's probably for the best," Martha sighs, with a little smile to Louis. "Bradley is a danger to himself and everyone around, in the kitchen. Every attempt I made, they all fell on deaf ears."

"He knows that, Mum," Bradley answers, still grinning. "That's WHY he does all the cooking."

Louis laughs. "I love cooking," he tells them. "It's one of the ways I unwind, so I don't mind at all. Besides, if I left Bradley to his and his director's devices, he'd be starving himself."

At that, both Martha and Frank's faces fall, though Bradley rolls his eyes at both of them, huffing out a breath in exasperation as Frank speaks.

"Not again, Bradley. We'd talked about this, the last time!" He shakes his head. "No more gaining, losing, the lot of it's terrible for you. I don't care what parts you're up for or what you think you've got to do. No part is worth gaining two stone in a few weeks, then losing three the month after."

"It's bad for your heart, love," Martha adds, looking worried.

"Mum! Dad. Seriously. Stop, I'm perfectly healthy. I'm healthy as a horse! Look at me." He spreads his arms out, appealing, and Martha's expression relaxes a little.

"Don't you get any thinner, young man," she scolds, as Bradley's face flushes red. He can't believe his parents are going through this with Louis here, and looks at him in mute appeal.

"You're not going to get any help from me on this," Louis informs him. "I agree with your parents and we've talked about how I feel."

Sighing deeply, Bradley just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, though he does take Louis's hand and squeeze his fingers. "I'm terribly ganged-up-on," he declares to the room, before carefully changing the subject. "Mum, where do you want to go while you're here? Tourist places, I mean."

"Your father and I are going on a walking tour of the Roman ruins tomorrow," she enthuses. "And then we were hoping you could join us for supper? Our treat, of course, though you'll have to choose the place." She looks to Louis. "I'm sure you know all the best places around here."

"Actually, I was looking forward to cooking for you while you're here," Louis says. "So, maybe our place tomorrow night?" Glancing at Bradley to make sure that's okay with his boy.

Bradley beams at him, then nods to his parents. "We'd love to have you."

"Darling, we'd be simply thrilled to see your place!" Bradley's mum enthuses to them both, then holds up the teapot again, the look in her eye that tells a despairing Bradley that she's going to tell some sort of embarrassing childhood story. "Now have another cuppa, Louis. We've got so much to catch up on!"

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis Garneau and Bradley James (bjames): a very good morning continued

jennandanica@gmail.com — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 19:28:57 GMT

players only. follows part one and part two.

The fresh air outside clears his head a bit, and Bradley finds a smile for Louis as they step away from the flat. "Where to?"

"Let's head down the main street and then we'll circle back, along where the food vendors and the regular market are," Louis says, hand on the small of Bradley's back as he guides him down the side alley to the main thoroughfare.

"I should get something for my mum," Bradley muses aloud, luxuriating in the warm press of Louis's hand, letting his mind focus on the stalls, the vendors, the lady selling stained glass ornaments, instead of the torture of his body. He's even walking nearly normally, he congratulates himself. "Are you looking for anything in particular? For the flat, I mean?"

"Not unless there's something you'd like to make it feel more like yours," Louis says, smiling at Bradley. And marveling at how much his life has changed. A year ago he never would have spent a Saturday morning like this, just wandering the market.

"You saw my hotel room, I'm not much of one for decorating," Bradley reminds Louis, laughing a little. He realizes that he's still hovering on the gentle edge of subspace when he crowds in closer to Louis as they stop to look at some hand-turned cabinetry, craving the touch. Happy. "As long as you're there, it feels like mine, pretty much," he admits, not able to meet Louis's eyes, embarrassed by the sappiness of the sentiment.

"I'm glad." Certainly the loft's become far more of a home than it ever was since meeting Bradley. Before it was simply a place to crash when he got caught too far from the castle. "But if you ever change your mind, let me know."

"I will," Bradley promises, peering into the depths of another booth. It seems to be selling paintings, some of the local sights and countryside. "My mum's got enough art. Dammit, birthday gifts are terribly hard, for parents." Plus, he'd already bought her all the things on her list, when his bonus for Merlin came through.

"What if we were to have them over for the weekend closest to her birthday?" Louis suggests. "I can send a charter to fly them over and we can put them up at one of the chateaus and take your mother out for a special birthday dinner. If they could take an extra day they could come over on the Thursday and see you at work on the Friday."

Bradley's eyes go wide, and his jaw is a little dropped as he stares at Louis. "Charter a jet...and fly them over...good God!" He shakes his head, laughing a little. "You'll definitely make a good first impression on them, that's for sure. That would be...it's got to be too much. Surely it's too much!"

"The plane is just sitting there otherwise," Louis points out, "as are the chateaus. It would be my pleasure to be able to treat your parents and I'm certain they would enjoy seeing where you work."

A smile breaking out across his face, Bradley shakes his head fondly. "You are too much," he breathes, and impulsively leans up to brush a kiss across Louis's lips, ignoring the fact that they're in public. "That would be brilliant. I'll ring them and check, later, yeah? Make sure they're free. And thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad it's something I can do," Louis says, smiling at the kiss. "Which doesn't mean you can't still pick up something for her. Does she like perfume, pottery, lace?"

"No perfume," Bradley shakes his head, already switching gears again to finding the perfect gift. "She loves artwork...paintings, mostly, or sculpture. She's a whole shelf full of my photographs, though." He wanders to the next shop, which has hand-blown glass; vases, bowls, statuary, even panes of stained glass. "Oh, this is gorgeous! What do you think?"

"I think it's beautiful," Louis says, examining the piece carefully. "Would she have somewhere to put it?"

The stained glass shows the mountain near Sarlat, even has a tiny rendering of the village in the corner, all meticulously colored in jewel-tones and set in leaded framing. Bradley nods, picking it up with great care. "They've got a sun room, really more of a porch, but glassed in. It would hang beautifully in one of the windows, I think." He eyes Louis sideways. "Think it's a good sort of mum-gift?"

Louis laughs. It wouldn't be for his but he has a feeling Bradley's mother is nothing like Christiane Garneau. "I think it's a wonderful mum-gift." He smiles. "You should get it."

"Right." Nodding decisively, Bradley cradles the pane in his hands and brings it to the counter to be rung up. "That's my shopping sorted," he grins at Louis. "Wasn't really expecting to find something on the first try. Where to next?"

"We should shop for our picnic but are you sure you want to carry that around? We can either take it back or leave it here until we're done," Louis tells Bradley. "The vendor's used to keeping parcels for customers."

"Oh, that's smart...I'd probably sit on it or something," Bradley agrees, and leaves the package with the glassblower, who is happy to hold it for them.

He's becoming comfortable, as his body adjusts to the plug and the cage. It's still keeping him on the edge of dreamy subspace, but he's enjoying that, luxuriating in the fact that Louis is minding everything for them. He hasn't felt this way outside their play, not very often, and it's almost startling how relaxing and deeply pleasurable it feels.

Louis takes Bradley's hand and then slips his arm around him instead, keeping his boy close as they check out the various stands. "Meat or pate?" he asks, once they have a baguette and some cheese.

"Pate," Bradley offers. "It's perfect with the crunchy bread. You're making a foodie out of me, you know." He leans into Louis's side, soaking in his warmth and presence.

"Good. It's very difficult to spend any amount of time in France without becoming one," Louis says with a smile, letting Bradley choose the pate. The package added to the others, he leads Bradley towards a fruit stand where they buy some grapes and plums. "Have you had these?" he asks, nodding towards the plums.

"Nope," Bradley eyes them warily. They look rather...unripe, all green, and they remind him a bit of limes. Soft limes. "I'll trust you, but I'm not a fan of food that bites me back, frankly."

"They're sweet. Delicious and rich and they're actually called a dessert plum," Louis says, pulling one from the bag when the woman hands them over. "Taste."

"Okay," Bradley says, still skeptical, until he bites into the plum Louis is holding and the taste explodes on his tongue. "Oh my god! That's unbelievable." He licks his lips, grinning. "You'd better hold onto those, or I'll eat them all before we even get to the main lunch part."

Louis laughs and puts them away with the other food. "What else? Wine and pastries?"

"Wine yes, pastries no," Bradley trails along with Louis, still held close to his side. "We've already got the bread, after all. And my trainer would never let me hear the end of it. Could we get some of that goat's cheese?" He points to a stand where the chevre sign is displayed prominently.

"Mais oui," Louis says, happily buying a small round of chevre before they head for the wine. "Red or white?"

"Red, I think, right? With this pate and everything?" Bradley grins sideways at Louis, up through his eyelashes. "I mostly just make it up when I guess what wine goes with what food."

"With dinner, yes, as a rule, red with beef and white with chicken, but for casual drinking, with a picnic like this, either is good. It's a matter of personal preference," Louis says, picking out a red table wine and handing it to the vendor. "The key is to keep it light and not overpower the rest of the meal."

"I don't think it's possible to overpower cheese this good," Bradley answers, peering greedily into the food bag as Louis handles the wine purchase. "But I'll take your word for it. Do we need anything else?"

"Not if you're not going to let me buy pastries," Louis says with a smile, his eyes sparkling.

"No pastries," Bradley says with mock sternness. "King Arthur was a strapping young warrior, not doughy with pastries, I'll have you know. And I don't fancy running them back off my arse when shooting starts again. The cheese and pate and bread and plums will be more than enough, thank you." He tucks his arm into Louis's. "I was rather hoping you'd have *me* for dessert, anyway," he adds, in a murmur.

"Oh I plan to," Louis says with a quick glance around before he slides his hand down to Bradley's ass and presses against the base of the plug. "Both as an entree and dessert."

"God," Bradley chokes, suddenly yanked out of his teasing lightness by the pressure of the plug against his prostate, the sudden surge of heat and desire and sheer *want* that nearly staggers him as they walk. "Please. Yes, please." Even though he knows it'll be torture, caged as he is and still raw and sore, he feels like he just might die if Louis doesn't fuck him soon.

The hand goes back to Bradley's hip and Louis steers him back towards the glass vendor. "We'll pick up your package and then stop home to drop it off, pick up a picnic basket." His tone as casual as ever despite the fact that his cock's already stirring.

Bradley nods, struck dumb with anticipation and the most delicious shiver of fear. The glass vendor clearly recognizes them from before, which is a blessing, since Bradley's not entirely sure he remembers his own name, at this point, and he carefully tucks his package under his arm before rejoining Louis. His knees are almost weak, and he glances sideways at Louis, trying to understand how he stays so calm, so impassive, so clearly in control, when Bradley himself knows his cheeks are pink and his heart is already racing.

Making their way back home through the crowded streets, Louis takes every opportunity to slide his hand over Bradley's backside, stroking the plug through his jeans. It's too busy for anyone to notice and even if they did, really, it looks like he's doing nothing more than groping his boyfriend and that's all too common here.

By the time they're anywhere near the flat, Bradley is practically panting for breath, he's so helplessly aroused. Louis's light, teasing touches--hard enough to prod and sting, not nearly enough to give any kind of satisfaction or relief--work him up more and more. When they reach the door, he's a sweating, shivering mass of nerves and heat.

"Up you go," Louis orders, opening the door. "Put the frame on the dining room table for now and I'll take care of the food."

How is Louis so calm, so normal? Bradley nods wordlessly and does as he's told, placing the wrapped, padded gift carefully on the table, where it won't have a chance to be knocked over or broken. Then he watches Louis, eyes huge and hungry, all his focus narrowed down to his Sir.

Louis pulls out a picnic basket from under the sink and loads their packages into it, adding ice packs, glasses, cutlery and plates. "There we go," he says. "I think that's it. Have I forgot anything?" he asks, deliberately teasing his boy.

Bradley's jaw drops, his eyes widen. Louis had told him he'd be tormenting him, but could he really...? Steeling himself, he forces his mouth closed and nods a little. "I...I think that's everything we need. For the picnic." Not that he's been able to pay any attention at all.

"Then let's go," Louis says, picking up the basket. He hadn't been going to wait but the look on Bradley's face is priceless and only encourages his inner sadist. "Bring a jacket just in case. French weather is very mercurial at this time of year."

Teeth grinding almost audibly, Bradley glares at Louis, then stomps towards the hall closet to get his coat. He can't sense anything through that bland, amused exterior Louis has, and until he hears differently, he's going to take him seriously. But seriously. Louis isn't going to touch him? After all that teasing? Bradley's whole body is practically on fire, here.

"Is something wrong?" Louis asks, standing by the top of the stairs, one eyebrow raised.

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Bradley reminds himself that he'd made this choice. That this is what he'd wanted, no matter how hard it might get, sometimes. The cage helps, a solid plastic reminder that none of this is his decision. That he has to abide by what Louis decides; reminding himself of that eases something hard and impatient inside him, and his jaw relaxes.

"No, sir," he admits softly.

"Good."

...to be continued

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis Garneau and Bradley James (bjames): a very good morning

jennandanica@gmail.com — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 19:49:09 GMT

players only. backdated. takes place the morning after Louis gives Bradley a welcome gift.

For the longest time, Bradley drifts between sleep and wakefulness. He's warm, all curled under the softest of blankets; he's at Louis's flat, then, he thinks sleepily. He can feel Louis spooned behind him, the steady cadence of his breathing almost enough to lull Bradley back to sleep, but the light streaming in the windows is too much to let him properly fall back into slumber.

And there's something different about today, he ponders, still muzzy with sleep. Something's changed, and there's...his eyes fly open. He's living here now. He's moved in, really moved in, and this isn't just Louis's flat, it's THEIR flat. Before he can even wake up fully, he feels himself start to smile.

Feeling Bradley shift against him, Louis slowly wakes. Nuzzles the back of Bradley's shoulders and neck, testing whether his lover is actually awake too.

The soft scratch of Louis's stubble against the back of his neck is delicious, Bradley thinks, and stretches luxuriously, his knees popping a bit as he reaches for the foot of the bed--THEIR bed--with his toes. He's still smiling when he turns his head to see how awake Louis really is. Those sleepy brown eyes are so gorgeous when he meets them, he can't help but kiss Louis's nose, despite the awkward angle.

"Morning. Flatmate," he smiles, pulling away from the soft kiss.

Louis chuckles. "That's right. This is our place now," he says, kissing the corner of Bradley's mouth. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept like I was dead," Bradley admits, letting himself relax back, roll over, enjoy Louis's touches and kisses. "Who knew wearing a dress would be so tiring? Dunno how the girls do it every day like they do," he grins.

"You think it was the dress part that was so tiring?" Louis says with a small smile, looking up from where he's licking at Bradley's nipple.

"I was kidding," Bradley tries for a dignified tone, but it comes out all squeaky as Louis's clever tongue teases his nipple into a stiff point, the warm wet of his mouth contrasting with the cool air of the room as he moves his head to speak.

"Mm-hm." Louis moves lower, trailing a path of kisses down Bradley's stomach.

"You're obviously...oh god...you're obviously feeling energetic this morning," Bradley babbles a bit inanely, spreading out on his back like a starfish, letting Louis have as much room as he'd like, to play with.

Louis chuckles. "I didn't come last night," he points out, amused, flicking his tongue over the head of Bradley's cock.

That gets an answering chuckle out of Bradley. "And whose fault is it that I was in a coma, hmm?" He shivers all over, skin breaking out in goosebumps at the delicate, warm, wet touch on the sensitive head of his cock, now stiff enough that the crown is showing, a little fluid pearling at the tip. He strokes a careful hand through Louis's hair, the smooth dark strands cool between his fingers. God, he's a total goner for this man.

That gets another laugh and Louis shifts, pushing Bradley's legs up and kneeling between them. "I'll be gentle," he says, reaching for the nightstand and the lube, "but I want inside you. Need to fuck you."

Spread wide and open, Bradley can feel the raw ache between his legs where Louis had fisted him the night before. He takes a deep, suddenly shivery breath, and his cock jumps against his belly.

"You don't...you don't need to be gentle," he forces out, unable to meet Louis's eyes as he lifts his knees higher. The need, the craving, is hot at the base of his spine.

"No?" Louis smiles, slicking his fingers and pushing two inside Bradley.

Mute with desire, breath coming fast in his throat, Bradley shakes his head, never looking away from Louis. Then he arches up, gasping, as those two fingers stretch his tender, sore hole.

"Sore?" Louis murmurs, his cock throbbing at the thought. His fingers curling to stroke over that bundle of nerves, fuse pleasure with pain.

"Ye-es," Bradley stutters out, breath catching halfway through the word as Louis's fingers spread, a shock of pain zinging up through his spine, even as his prostate is touched and rubbed. The pleasure and pain are almost indistinguishable; it's all good, wonderful, when it reaches his brain.

Louis smiles and strokes for a moment longer before pulling back, another layer of lube slicked over his own cock before he fits the head to Bradley's still slightly swollen hole and pushes in.

It's painful, a deep burning ache that makes Bradley's back arch, his hands fist in the bedding and his cock jump against his belly. He takes deep breaths, trying to process, get himself under control, even as Louis's cock reshapes him around itself. Even breathing seems to draw Louis deeper inside, and he's shaking with it.

Louis exhales softly, pushing deeper, sliding into his boy. "So tight," he murmurs, grasping Bradley's legs under his knees, pushing them up so he can go still deeper. Sink himself in to the hilt.

Bradley's hips are lifted entirely off the bed, and he's lined up perfectly for Louis's cock. He rocks back onto his shoulders, arching his back, taking as much of Louis as he can. It feels deeper than he's ever been before, and he's moaning through tight-clenched teeth as Louis shoves into him, stretching him, hurting him in the best way Bradley can imagine.

Rocking his hips, Louis sinks his cock into Bradley's hole again and again, his eyes flickering between his boy's face and his still red and raw-looking hole. Stretched around his swollen rigid flesh, he can only imagine how sore it must be, how much this is hurting Bradley and it only makes him harder. Makes him pound into Bradley, his thrusts quickly picking speed.

Louis is setting a brutal pace, slamming home into him over and over, his expression fiercely focused on his own pleasure. Bradley can't tear his eyes away, the feeling of being used like this overwhelming, amazing, gorgeous. The whimpers start involuntarily, small pained sounds that force their way out of his throat, growing louder as the burn gets more fierce. His abused hole is on fire, the pain zinging through him more powerfully than any pleasure, even as tears start in his eyes and the whimpers turn to cries.

Mon dieu. Every whimper, every cry, only fuels the fire. Louis leans forward, bracing his hands against the headboard and fucks Bradley even harder, holding nothing back now as he races towards the edge.

Even with his breath coming in hitching half-sobs, Bradley's eyes stay open, locked on Louis's face, his own teeth clenched tight to hold back the screams. Every thrust is shoving his whole body up, now, Louis's hips working him hard. It's the harshest, most brutal fuck he's ever endured, and his whole body is singing with it, adrenaline pushing him deeper and deeper into subspace. He wonders if Louis will make him bleed. Hopes he does, hopes he marks him, claims him with blood and sweat and come and tears. He feels totally owned, totally safe, even as he gives in and cries out, shattered by a thrust that goes so deep he can feel it all over his body.

That cry shoves him over the edge and Louis comes, fucking Bradley even harder as he rides him through every last aftershock, body stilling only when he's emptied every last drop into his boy's battered hole.

Louis's body hammering into him, the shudders wracking down his big body, the knowledge that he's coming inside Bradley's body like this, shocks him out of the haze of pain and pleasure he's lost in, and Bradley blinks tear-clumped lashes, refocusing on Louis's face as his body slowly stills. He's still buried deep in Bradley, his cock like a burning brand inside him, and Bradley's still whimpering quietly, though he gets his arms up around Louis's neck to cling close to him. His own cock is hard, stiff and leaking where it's trapped between their bodies.

"Good boy," Louis whispers, draping himself over Bradley, soft kisses pressed to the side of his throat. Such a contrast to the brutality of only a moment ago. "My good boy," he whispers.

Bradley pants against Louis's throat. He's still so hard it hurts, his hole is burning, he's wrecked and gone to pieces. So far down in subspace all he can do is breathe, and wait for Louis to tell him what to do, his mind floating free of his aching, pleasure-soaked body, calm and submissive and utterly content at hearing those words of praise.

Easing out, Louis shifts to lie beside Bradley, pulling him into his arms. He kisses him softly, again and again, waiting for his boy to come back up. "When you're ready we can shower and have some breakfast, go out to the market..." he says, talking simply so Bradley can hear his voice. Anchor himself.

Slowly, slowly, Bradley comes back up towards reality. Not fully, not when his cock is a fierce, cramping ache of want, and he can feel his own pulse in the raw, swollen muscles of his hole. He lets out a little stuttering breath, nearly a sob, when he realizes he won't be permitted to come. It's relief and gratitude and more desire, all tangled. "Hurts," he moans, meaning all of it.

Louis nods. "I know," he says softly, kissing the top of Bradley's head. "When it's gone down, I'll put you in the cage for the rest for weekend."

Bradley shudders at the pleasure of that, a full-body shiver that even prickles his scalp. He nods mutely, face tight against the crook of Louis's shoulder. Imagining what Louis might do to him while he's in the cage isn't helping his erection subside at all, though his breathing is steadying, his heartrate calming down. "And, you'll still shag me? With the cage on?" He wants to be sure.

"Mais oui," Louis murmurs, sliding his hand over Bradley's hip, all too close to his still-hard cock. "Again and again."

Bradley's hips twist helplessly as Louis's hand comes so close to his erection but never touches. Then he whimpers and goes still when the motion catches his aching inner muscles, the pain going straight up his spine. The idea of Louis fucking him over and over, using his raw, sore hole as brutally as he likes...Bradley's shivering again, this time from sheer desire.

"You like the sound of that, do you?" Louis smiles. "Like the thought of me hurting you, fucking you, emptying my cock into you over and over... maybe I should push a plug into you each time, after. Make you hold everything inside..."

"A-a whole day's worth..." Bradley can't even wrap his mind round it, rocks his hips again, cock still as stiff and painful as when they'd ended. "Wouldn't need lube," he hums against Louis's shoulder. His own come would be slick inside Bradley.

Louis smiles. If he keeps going, Bradley's never going to come up or his cock go down. "Let's go have our shower," he says softly, kissing Bradley on the top of his head again.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): welcome gift

jennandanica@gmail.com — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 17:24:01 GMT

players only. backdated. takes place the day after Louis asks Bradley to move in with him.

Bradley has felt like his skin is a size too small all day. Through waking up and having breakfast, through driving back to the hotel and meeting Colin and Angel, who'd teased him and Louis, but helped pack up his things cheerfully, both of them happy for him. Through stopping again for lunch at a patisserie on the road, where he managed to bin most of his lunch without Louis noticing, and even through hauling his bags and kit up the stairs into Louis's loft. Moving in for real.

But that's not what's got him nervy; no, he still remembers Louis's teasing from last night, the way he'd talked about the garter and heels, the way it'd made Bradley feel inside. Reluctant, but even more excited because of that. And he's been unable to stop thinking about it all day long.

It's not until they finish dinner that Louis tells Bradley to stay where he is and brings out the parcel he had delivered earlier - while they were out - from Citadel. "I'm fairly sure you can guess what this is," he says, placing the box on the floor beside Bradley.

Bradley blinks at the box, then glances up at Louis, knowing his face is red, and his eyes probably very bright indeed. "It's...is it...what we talked about. The garters and heels and stockings. Is...that's it?" He's generally not so tongue-tied but the way his cock is jumping to fullness is distracting.

Louis nods, completely captivated by Bradley's response. "Open it."

Carefully, Bradley opens the box, looking inside. Sitting on top, a pair of black high heels, and thigh-high stockings, with garters and a belt. And a tiny maid's outfit made of what feels like silk, just a little boning and shaping obvious as he lifts it out of the box, eyes running over it. He sets it aside and runs a finger down the seam of the stockings, marveling at how soft they are. Unable to stop looking at them, and at the shoes, and feeling embarrassment spike his arousal in a strange, twisty way.

"What do you think?" Louis asks, watching Bradley so very closely.

"I...it's gorgeous," Bradley murmurs, red to his ears, watching his own hand touch the heel of the black shoes. "Bit feminine for a bloke like me though, yeah? It might look silly." Humiliating, he thinks, flushing even harder.

"Not silly. Maybe wrong, but not silly," Louis says, that blush turning him on so much that he's very tempted to push Bradley down over the table and take him right now. "That's part of why it's so hot."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Bradley answers, still skeptical, but wanting oh-so-badly to be convinced. He glances up at Louis almost shyly, unsure of what to do next.

Louis smiles. "What are you waiting for?" he asks, gesturing at the box. "There's dishes to be done."

Biting his lip hard, Bradley nods, reaching into the box and pulling out the stockings and shoes and garters, setting them on the low end-table. Then the dress, setting it beside them. Unable to even look at Louis directly, he strips quickly out of his clothes.

The stockings are easy, or so he thinks...he draws them up his legs one by one, the silky feeling igniting something hot in his belly. But the garters and belt are a mystery of straps and clips, and he holds it in his hands, embarrassed all over again that he can't even tell which way is front.

"Come here. I'll help you with it this time," Louis says, holding out his hand, already so aroused his cock aches with it.

Gratefully, Bradley places the garters and the belt in Louis's hand. His own cock is already stiff, wet at the tip, and sways between his thighs as he steps close to Louis, holding his arms away from his body, ready for instructions.

"First, you unfasten these," Louis says, showing Bradley the fasteners on the back of the belt. "It's easiest if you put it on with them facing the front," he continues, wrapping the belt around Bradley's hips and threading the hooks through the eyes. "And then you shift it around so they're facing the back." He makes the adjustment, smiling at the way Bradley's cock jerks with his touch.

The belt is silky-smooth against his skin, and Bradley sucks in air as Louis's fingers deftly fasten him into it, tightening it around his slim waist. The straps dangle down his thighs, almost tickling him, and he shivers. "Got it," he rasps, staring down at how the belt is fastened, trying to memorize how to do it through the pounding of his blood in his ears.

"The garters," Louis pulls one down to meet the top of Bradley's stockings, "should run right down the centre of your thigh." Finger tracing the line. "You do the front ones up and then you reach behind to do the back ones." Showing Bradley exactly how to catch the top of the stockings between the hourglass clips and rubber circles. "There, I've done the one. You do the others."

The garter strap is like a brand of fire down his thigh, Bradley's skin is so sensitized. He shivers and nods at Louis, eyes huge, even as he's reaching for the other clips, eager to obey.

Twisting to get the final back clip fastened, Bradley finally gets it hooked on the top of the stocking, on his thigh. "Okay," he breathes, shifting, feeling the belt and straps move with him, painfully hard. "Okay, thank you." He's blushing all the way down his chest, wondering if he looks ridiculous, eager to get into the high heels. The dress, he's less sure about.

"One day, when you're not working, we'll shave your legs," Louis says, running his hand up and down Bradley's leg, the soft silk of the stockings hitching his breath. "Have everything smooth under here."

For once, Bradley is glad his hair is fine and light, both in color and texture, especially on his lower legs. He puts out a foot and examines his leg, and can't see hair through it, though the sprinkle of gold is showing on his thighs. Louis's hand makes him shiver, and he nods. "That...that sounds good," he gulps. He reaches for the shoes with a hand that only trembles a little, and steps into them carefully.

He instantly feels different. Taller, for one thing. Less steady on his feet, more uncertain. His legs feel miles long, and slimmer, somehow, more elegant. He takes a deep, steadying breath.

"Mon dieu," Louis whispers, sliding his hands up the front of Bradley's thighs, very deliberately ignoring his cock. "Look at you." His own cock throbbing behind his zipper, pressing tightly, insistently against it. "Now the dress."

The heat in Louis's eyes is enough to spark an answering warmth in Bradley, who struggles past his own hesitation about the dress, and reaches for it. The back is a bewildering array of little clasps and zippers and a tie, but he gets into it smoothly enough, turning his back to Louis for help with the fastenings. It feels strange and soft, swishing around his thighs, the silken underlayer almost torturous against his cock.

Louis has never been attracted to women, except as you might admire a beautiful painting, a work of art, so there's nothing about the clothing, nothing about this feminization that arouses him, except for the fact that it's Bradley. Bradley in stockings, garters, heels. Bradley in a dress that barely covers his thighs, barely reaches the tops of his stockings. His boy. All boy. All man. He finishes with the fastenings and forces himself to step back, his cock aching, the sight taking his breath away. "Turn around," he orders.

Hesitantly, careful in his heels, Bradley does. He's never dreamed of dressing in women's clothing for anything but a lark, but this...the way Louis is looking at him, it takes his breath away. The swish of the strange clothing, the cool air on the bare strip of thigh above the stockings, the way the garters rub when he moves...he takes a deep breath and rubs his hands down the skirt, shooting little glances at Louis, wanting to see his reaction.

Cursing softly under his breath, Louis simply stares. He's seen almost everything in his years with Citadel, but this, this has him so hard, so hard his whole body aches with it. With the desire to push that skirt back up and take his boy right here, right now. "Good," he whispers, licking his lips. "You can clean up now," he says, motioning at the dishes which are still on the table. "Dishes can go in the dishwasher but you'll have to wash the pots and pans."

It's not real humiliation, Bradley knows this. The heat in Louis's gaze, the hardness that he can see in Louis's trousers, the gentle way Louis is helping him, all of it is combining to ease him into this in a way he's desperately grateful for. But that little tang of embarrassment as he turns, feeling the skirt swish around his thighs and cock as he gathers the dishes, it makes him even harder. He actually has to freeze for a quick moment, plates in hand, to take a deep breath and settle himself.

Even as he runs the water, he can feel Louis's eyes on him. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, enjoying the way his muscles pull tight. Feeling just as naked as if he'd been wearing no clothes at all.

With the island in the way, Louis stands and walks around it, his eyes roaming up and down his boy's body. From the heels emphasizing the muscles in his calves to the flashes of skin between stocking and skirt. Mon dieu. Louis swallows hard, moving behind Bradley. "I think you need to bend over the sink a little more," he says softly.

Straining his ears to the limit, Bradley can hear Louis moving. He can even hear the click as he swallows heavily, and the sound sends a wash of heat through him. When Louis pauses right behind him, Bradley can't contain his shiver, and at those low, commanding words, he gulps once himself.

Hands in soapy, warm water, he ducks his head. Steps back just a little, so he can lean over, pushing his hips back for balance, spreading his legs a little for a wider base. The cool air sends prickles up the insides of his thighs, over his burning cock, so strange and intimate on that hidden bare skin.

The move exposes the backs of Bradley's thighs. Hints at what more lies beneath the fabric and Louis can't help himself. He pushes the skirt up some, exposing Bradley's ass, his balls and his rigid cock pressed against the front of the dress. "Mm." He runs his fingers between Bradley's cheeks, noting the stark contrast of the garters against his boy's pale skin.

Even the air feels like a touch on Bradley's skin; Louis's fingers burn like a brand, and Bradley jumps and sucks in a deep breath as those fingers tease at his ass, lightly brushing oversensitized skin. He can't turn around, can't do anything but try to keep breathing. He realizes he's been holding one plate under the rinse water for at least two minutes, and sets it aside before reaching for the next.

Louis sucks his thumb into his mouth, wetting it, and presses it to Bradley's hole, stretching him open a little. "I can imagine fisting you like this, in these heels, you bouncing on my hand..."

The wet, firm press of Louis's thumb makes Bradley jump a little, panting, and he has to spread his legs a little further to keep his balance in the unfamiliar heels. The thought of Louis's whole hand inside him makes him dizzy. "I, I just, I've never," he stutters a little helplessly, hips twisting as his hole contracts around the thumb.

"I know you haven't," Louis says softly, removing his thumb and taking a step back, the back of Bradley's skirt left hooked up on the garter belt. "Finish washing up and we'll see how far we can get."

Bradley's hole is wet, open, fluttering, and he whimpers a little as that warm touch is withdrawn and cool air brushes over his cheeks and thighs. The promise in Louis's voice makes his knees weak, too, and he locks them to be sure he doesn't wobble on his heels. He's washing the dishes mechanically now, quickly, only one pot left...and he can already feel his breathing getting faster as he rinses the pot, sets it carefully in the drainer, and turns to look at Louis. Knowing his face is red and his eyes are wide and bright.

"Turn off the water and stay right there," Louis orders.

Moving quickly, Bradley does as he's told, putting his hands back behind him on the edge of the sink. For balance.

Louis fetches a step stool and a tube of thicker lube and places them in front of Bradley before disappearing into the washroom to check his nails and thoroughly wash his hands and forearms.

There's a little plastic stool by his feet, and Bradley knows that's lube in the tube, and he can hear the water running. He's hot and cold and shivering already, whole body strung tight in anticipation.

Coming back from the bathroom, Louis settles himself on the stool and motions Bradley forward. "No holding onto the counter," he says. "If you really feel like you're going to fall, you can grab my shoulder."

"How do you want me?" Bradley asks, stepping forward trustingly, looking down at Louis's face. He never gets to see him from this angle...he's gorgeous, of course, and Bradley gets to see all his long eyelashes. He can't believe he's even thinking about that, when he's nearly naked in a dress, standing in high heels in front of his lover, his cock painfully rigid against smooth silk.

"Like this," Louis says with a smile, slicking his fingers and then his whole hand. "Balancing on those heels with your legs spread."

Bradley breathes. Louis is going to put his hand up inside him, like this, while he's standing. He almost staggers at the very idea, catches his balance, nods. He can do this, he's strong, he can. His hole aches and flutters, empty and needy. He spreads his legs further, still not sure how Louis is going to do this, how it's going to work with him standing, his muscles tight for balance.

"Remember, if you need to hold on to me, you can," Louis says, pushing his fingers between Bradley's cheeks and slicking the lube over his hole.

The cooling touch of the lube is so welcome Bradley moans, low in his throat, and sways a little, though he doesn't need to reach for Louis's shoulders yet. His legs are spread obscenely wide, as wide as he can without falling or straining his knees, and yet Louis's fingers feel huge and hot, pushing against him, parting his cheeks.

Louis pushes one finger then two into Bradley, the excess lube making it so easy. He groans, watching Bradley's cock bob the front of the skirt, a damp spot spreading across the fabric. "Dirty boy," he whispers, but he's smiling, gently twisting those fingers into Bradley's hole, opening him up so slowly.

Bradley's hole stretches, eases, as those fingers work up into him. It's a relief of the itchy ache he's been feeling sine he first stepped into the shoes, started feeling the deep and hot need to be taken. Owned. Claimed and possessed. "More," he begs, his voice a rusty whisper.

Louis smiles and works a third finger in alongside the first two, his own cock already hard and straining against the zipper of his jeans. Fucks them in and out of Bradley's hole, twisting them a little more roughly than before.

The sting and stretch makes Bradley's eyes fall closed, makes him sway dangerously before catching his balance again. His cock jumps and leaks, wanting more of that delicious burn.

"So beautiful," Louis murmurs, opening his fingers inside Bradley, stretching his hole wider and wider until it's ready to accommodate a fourth.

Four fingers has Bradley sucking in air in a deep gasp, and reaching for Louis's shoulder for the first time. He feels unsteady, lightheaded, floaty even though he's standing, and those fingers inside him are delicious torture. Tight, and burning, and spreading him so wide he can't even think, but he stays on his feet even as his muscles clench and release around Louis's fingers.

"Do you still want more?" Louis asks, working those fingers in and out of Bradley's hole, the muscle fluttering, resisting at first before finally easing, the path left slick and hot and open.

"God, yes, please sir," Bradley breathes, Louis's hand feeling huge and hot, invasive and intense, between his legs. He can't imagine it getting up inside him, can't even begin to think what that will feel like. He whimpers, hips twisting a little as Louis's fingers prod and nudge at his prostate.

Mon dieu. Arousal coiling ever tighter, Louis tucks his thumb in against his palm and slowly pushes deeper, taking his time, moving forward then back and then forward again, letting Bradley's body guide him until his boy has the widest part of his hand right there. "Good boy," he murmurs. "We're so close."

"Oh, god," Bradley gasps. It feels like he's being split in two, his body stretching impossibly to take Louis's hand inside him. It hurts, core-deep, in the most intimate part of him, and he staggers, grabbing hard at Louis's shoulder to take his weight. His cock is jerking, heavy and rock-hard even through this, leaking at the tip, and he can't think, his whole mind taken over by static.

"That's it," Louis nods, pushing steadily. "Hold on to me." A whispered curse, thick with awe, spilling from his lips as Bradley's body opens suddenly, pulling him in to the wrist and clamping down hard.

It's a shocking relief, and somehow still doubly intense, when Louis's hand sinks into him, his body suddenly aching with fullness, his hole clenching frantically around the intrusion. Bradley keens, high in his throat, eyes staring blindly as his body starts to shake and tremble wildly. It's like nothing he's ever felt before.

Bradley looks so beautiful like this and Louis is so hard he can barely breathe. "Magnifique," he whispers, gently twisting his hand, his knuckles rubbing right over Bradley's prostate.

Bradley staggers as Louis's hand moves inside him. He's impaled, held up as much by the hand inside him as his own legs, and he makes another high, thin sound as gravity pushes him down harder on the fist inside his body. It's too much, it's so much, his cheeks are wet and his knees are shaking hard enough that the skirt moves with it.

"You have permission," Louis tells him, twisting his fist again and again. "Anytime you want."

"I can't," Bradley gasps. He's rigid with tension keeping himself on his feet, overwhelmed by the pressure inside him, moving in him, pressing hard on his prostate. He's nowhere near coming, his whole body on fire and nerves skyrocketing in every direction.

"No?" Louis licks at Bradley's cock through the skirt. One firm flick of his tongue over the head pressing against the fabric.

"Oh my god," Bradley says, stunned by the scrape of wet heat through fabric, the way it shocks through his oversensitized nerves straight up into his brain. He staggers, almost falls, but Louis's hands are there holding him, inside and out. He starts to come, in slow, sluggish pulses, each feeling like an orgasm all on its own.

Louis groans, watching as Bradley shudders apart above him, around him, his hand buried deep inside the boy, muscle clenching and squeezing and shifting again and again. "That's it," he murmurs. "So good. For me. All of it for me, boy."

The way his body is convulsing, it feels like Bradley is pulling Louis in deeper; or maybe that's just the way his knees are shaking, his muscles gone weak and strange, and he's almost being held up by the hand inside his body. Impaled, truly, his hole fluttering helplessly around Louis's forearm just below the wrist. He makes an incoherent, strange sound that he barely even recognises as the aftershocks trail off..

Mon dieu. "So beautiful," Louis breathes, waiting for the ripples to ease before he starts to pull out. "My good boy. Hold onto me."

Bradley clings, desperately, as Louis's hand starts to leave him. Empty and hollowed-out, and he hadn't even felt it but his face is wet with tears, his hands are shaking where they hold on to Louis's shoulders. He's completely come apart, and he isn't even together enough to worry about how he'll get himself back together. He trusts Louis to do it for him.

His hand freed, Louis pushes to his feet. He gathers Bradley in his arms and picks him up and carries him to the bed where he lays him down, brushing the strands of hair back from his face. "I'm going to grab a warm washcloth and then I'll be right back," he promises.

Still speechless, eyes huge in his face, Bradley merely nods. The stockings are smooth against his legs, the skirt an unfamiliar weight and rustle around his legs. It all keeps the unreal, dreamlike feeling going. He's so deep in subspace that he whimpers out loud when Louis returns, wanting him close, more of him, touching Bradley.

"Give me just a moment," Louis says, kissing Bradley softly as he cleans between his legs.

Bradley is tender, sore, and hisses through his teeth at the soft, warm cloth touching him. But he spreads his legs obediently, sighing a little as even this sends him further down into submission, acceptance. Giving himself over to Louis's will.

Louis gently dries him off and sets both washcloth and towel aside, stretching out beside Bradley to pull him into his arms. The clothes can wait until later. "My good boy," he whispers. "You were so good for me. Magnifique."

A little smile breaks through Bradley's reserve, and he nuzzles in close to Louis, tangling himself in Louis as best he can, proud of himself for gaining Louis's praise at something so new. He's utterly exhausted now, and can barely keep his eyes open, but he does lean in for a kiss. "Thank you," he murmurs, voice raw.

Louis kisses Bradley softly, gently exploring his mouth for a moment before drawing back. "I love you," he whispers, shifting so Bradley can really curl in against him, the other side of the covers pulled over them. "Now go to sleep."

"Love you too," Bradley mumbles, startling himself with a huge yawn. He'd thought the high, the endorphins would keep him flying for ages, but instead, he can feel the heaviness of deep sleep dragging him down into the dark.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis, Bradley James, Josh Hartnett, Jesse Metcalfe and a few others: a simple ceremony

jennandanica@gmail.com — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 22:34:29 GMT

players only. backdated. takes place a few days after Bradley is introduced to Josh and Jesse.

Bradley wonders if this is the way couples feel before weddings. He's already hugged Colin and Angel and made sure they were safely sitting over by the canopy, set up in the garden. He'd had to rush around and make sure there were enough glasses for the champagne--of course there were, the Citadel staff is impeccable as always--and that the two lightbulbs that were flickering were being replaced. Of course they had been. And now he's just standing, by the edge of the canopy, and there's Jesse, looking gorgeous with his camera, and there's Josh right behind him looking all protective and loving and handsome.

The night is warm and balmy, the sun just down and the candles flickering. It's just a small group of people, and Bradley doesn't want to admit that he's kind of hiding from Louis and his parents, but he really, very much is. He hasn't even properly met them yet, and here he is doing this whole thing, with commitments and symbols, with their only son, and for all he knows they have a deep hatred of blonds.

If his parents hadn't been away on one of their many vacations, Louis would have made sure they met Bradley before this, before the ceremony, but as it was, he wasn't even expecting them to attend, to cancel all their plans and fly home so they could. "Again," he says in French as they cross the lawn, "I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner. It didn't even occur to me you'd want to be here. As you can see, it's a very small gathering."

"Louis," his mother says, putting her hand on his arm, surprised to see her normally unflappable son so nervous. "Enough. Of course we would want to be here and we trust your judgement. I'm sure the boy is wonderful. He'd have to be for you to want to do this."

Louis ducks his head a little at that.

"Bradley," he says, switching into English as they reach the edge of the canopy. "These are my parents. Michel and Christiane Garneau. Mother, father, Bradley James."

Jesse watches Bradley and then Louis and his parents. "You know," he whispers, grinning at Josh, "I think Bradley's been hiding from Monsieur Garneau's parents. And Monsieur Garneau looks a bit nervous, too."

"Well, if you were getting married, you wouldn't wait until the wedding day to introduce your parents to the bride," Josh says, far less sympathetic to his best friend's plight. "And I don't blame Bradley. They'll adore him but he doesn't know that."

"Well no," Jesse chuckles, "but you have to admit that it is kinda difficult to introduce someone to Monsieur Garneau's parents, seeing as they're travelling so much. You're right, though, they'll love him."

Bradley watches the sophisticated, gorgeous couple walk across the lawn with Louis, and braces for impact. As they get closer, he can see the family resemblance; tall and dark, impeccable, but with smiling eyes, and he breathes a little sigh of relief. He licks his lips nervously as Louis introduces them, then bends over Madame Garneau's hand with his best gallant bow.

"M'sieur, Madame, I won't even try to speak French right now...but it's such an honor to meet you both." He kisses the back of her hand, straightens up, knowing he's a little flushed with nerves. "I, we, are so glad you could come. It's brilliant you could make it, it made Louis's whole day." His grin breaks free, unstoppable. "And I'm so nervous already I hope you won't mind if I trip on my feet a few times tonight."

Christiane nods and smiles. "It's our pleasure to be here," she says in perfect but accented English. "And we know you must be very special for our son to be doing this." She smiles at both of them. "I've never seen him so happy and we have you to thank for that."

Michel nods. "Oui, mais," he quickly corrects himself, "we must have you over to dinner soon. Get to know you," he adds with a pointed look at his son which says he knows very well Louis has been avoiding having Bradley meet them. "Regardless of this," he says, waving at the grounds, at Sarlat, "we are not that different from any other parents and we would like to know the young man who has captured our son's heart."

Bradley flushes, his cheekbones going rosy-red, at their words. "Yes ma'am. Sir. Of course, I'd love to have dinner sometime. Louis, he's...well, he's just brilliant." Without even consciously realizing it, he drifts to Louis's side, needing him close, gathering calm and steadiness just from having him near. "I know it all seems a bit sudden, and maybe a little crazy, but he really did sweep me off my feet." Slanting a glance up at Louis, with a little grin. "Literally, actually. I might not know much about, you know, all this." He echoes Michel's gesture, taking in Sarlat, "but I'm learning fast, we're doing good."

"Yes, we are," Louis says, smiling down at Bradley, his arm around him and his chest tight with emotion. He glances at his parents. "If you'd like to take a seat, we'll be starting soon."

"Of course," Christiane says, reaching up to give Louis a kiss on the cheek. "We'll talk to you both after," she adds, taking her husband's hand. "We should go and say hello to Josh and his boy," she tells him, tugging him gently in their direction.

"Bonjour, Monsieur, Madame Garneau," Josh says, kissing them both on the cheek in turn. "You remember Jesse, yes?"

"Mais oui," Michel says, sighing softly as his wife hugs and kisses both men. "It's good to see you, Jesse. And Josh, you are looking very happy these days. Much like my son."

Jesse smiles at Louis's parents. "Madame, monsieur, it's good to see you again," he says, "but if you'll excuse me, I think I should begin taking pictures like I promised."

Louis's parents nod and continue talking to Josh for a few minutes before letting him lead them to their seats up front.

"Are you ready?" Louis asks Bradley, looking around. "I think everyone is here."

Bradley slips his hand into Louis's, lacing their fingers together, stilling the slight tremble in his own. Even though it's a collaring ceremony, something he's never been to before, the formality of Louis's parents and the air of solemn excitement all around them--even visible on Colin and Angel's faces, as Angel waves at him from her seat--lets him know that this is an even bigger deal than he'd realized.

"I'm ready," and his voice sounds steady, even if it's a little rougher than usual. "Are you ready?"

Jesse takes pictures of the guests, of Louis's parents, of Louis and Bradley, and of course of Josh. He tries to be as unobtrusive as possible while capturing the happy event. He has photographed weddings before but never a collaring ceremony.

Louis nods and smiles, leaning in to kiss Bradley gently on the mouth. "I'm more than ready. Come on," he says, leading Bradley to the front of the tent. "If everyone would like to take their seats, I think we're ready to start."

He waits for a few minutes while everyone settles. "Thank you." He takes a deep breath, exhaling softly, surprisingly nervous for someone who speaks in public all the time. "First of all, I would like to thank you all, our family and friends, for joining us this evening. It means a lot to have you all here, sharing in our happiness." He smiles. "Luc," motioning to the one of the trainers who is standing just to the side, "has generously volunteered to translate the ceremony, which will be in English, into French for those of you who are not comfortably bilingual. Both Bradley and I will be pausing after each vow to give him the time to translate and we ask for your patience in this."

Bradley, almost breathless with nerves, still manages a small smile at the crowd. He glances over and looks at Colin and Angel as Louis starts to speak... Angel looks like she's nearly in tears, and smiling, and Colin's eyes are huge and curious as he watches quietly. Bradley's so grateful for their presence. He turns his attention back to Louis, wiggling his fingers 'hello' to Jesse, who he can see behind his camera off to the side. Taking pictures. Good news, that, since Bradley's practically lightheaded and doesn't know how much he'll remember, though Louis's strong, deep voice steadies him.

Josh smiles, watching the happy couple, his eyes flickering to his boy taking pictures. They'll have their own ceremony of sorts in a few days and he should probably arrange for someone to take pictures then. Immortalize it in the same way Jesse is doing here.

Louis smiles at everyone and then turns to Bradley, eyes only for his boy now. "As your Sir, I promise to honour and place our relationship above all others..." pausing to let Luc translate for those gathered, "I promise to support you and protect you and be there when you need me..."

Jesse tries to listen to Louis's words but he doesn't catch that much, too busy taking pictures of the happy couple and their guests.

Bradley sees a few faces that still have a trace of incredulity on them in the crowd, like they can't quite believe this is happening. Then Louis starts talking, and he can't see anything but his sir. Can't feel anything but the big warm hand holding his own, that gorgeous face, and his eyes, Bradley can't look away. He knows the words by now, by heart, but hearing them like this is something completely different. New. Special.

"I promise to communicate openly and honestly with you and help you learn to serve me to the best of your abilities..." Louis continues, forcing himself to keep the words slow, to pause between vows for Luc, "I promise to take care of you and look out for you..." fingers squeezing Bradley's, his eyes suddenly and strangely wet, "I promise to discipline you with care and never punish you in anger..."

Bradley squeezes back fiercely, tightly, hanging on to Louis's hand like it's a lifeline. He's stunned by the shine of tears in Louis's eyes, and his own prickle a little as he listens to the recitation of Louis's vows. His promises, and Louis never breaks a promise, Bradley knows that. It's one of the reasons Bradley loves him so much.

"And I promise to love and cherish you and treasure always the gift of your submission," Louis finishes, bringing Bradley's hand to his mouth and kissing his fingers.

Bradley's chest is tight, hot, and he sucks in a deep breath as Louis's kiss ghosts over his knuckles. It feels more intimate than sex, almost, the tender way Louis touches him now, and he struggles to get his thoughts together, remember the words he's memorized.

Slowly, carefully, remembering to pause for the interpreter, he begins. "As your sub, your property, your most prized and cherished possession: I promise to honour our relationship above all others; I promise to support you and be there when you need me." With the last, he smiles up at Louis, punctuating the promise.

Christiane pulls a tissue from her bag and dabs her eyes and Michel pats her hand. It's a beautiful ceremony and their son has found himself a beautiful boy.

Louis smiles back, taking every word, every vow, each and every promise to heart. He's never thought about going here before and he wouldn't be now if he didn't have every ounce of faith that this will be forever.

So focused on Louis that the tent, the canopy, the guests are all just a vague blur, Bradley continues, voice ringing out strong and true, acting training kicking in. "I promise to communicate openly and honestly with you and to share my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams; I promise to open myself up completely to belong to you; I promise to wear my collar with pride and be an asset to you."

Josh glances around for Jesse again, the scene before him reminding him of their wedding. His eyes quickly find his boy, his slave, and he smiles, nodding when Jesse looks up from the camera and smiles back.

Mon dieu. Louis's chest is tight with emotion, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, and it's all he can do to not give in and let everyone see how affected he is.

"I promise to accept any punishment with all the grace I can muster," Bradley pulls a little face at that... all the grace he can muster might not be much, but he figures Louis is well aware of that already, and his eyeroll gets a chuckle from the front row, too. He waits, now, knowing that Louis wants to finish the vows and put the collar on before he recites his last line.

A hint of a smile curves Louis's lips and he shakes his head ever so subtly. But he wouldn't change his boy, break his spirit, for anything in the world. He turns to the table and picks up the collar, fastening it firmly around Bradley's throat. "I give you this collar as a symbol of these words, a reminder you belong to me and I to you, and as a visible symbol to all others of our commitment to each other."

Grinning at Louis's face, Bradley hears his words and grows serious. He waits, breathless, for Louis to finish, and as the collar fastens around his throat, he shivers, the sensation traveling straight up his spine and leaving him nearly dizzy.

"I promise to seek to please you, beyond myself, in all ways, completely and forever," he murmurs, not caring if anyone can hear him, only seeing Louis. Feeling his hands and his collar, heavy and warm and beloved, on Bradley's throat.

Louis's hands stay on Bradley. They cup his face and draw him closer, their mouths pressed together in a kiss underlining every one of those vows. Mine. "I love you," Louis whispers, the words brushed across Bradley's lips, meant for him, for them alone.

"I love you back," Bradley murmurs into Louis's kiss, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he dimly hears the crowd start to applaud, a whoop that sounds suspiciously like Colin's rising over the rest, and he flushes bright red as he realizes he's basically sucking Louis's tongue here in front of everyone. He can't regret it though, and pulls away with a little smile.

Louis drops hands and links their fingers, turning to address their audience. "Thank you again for joining us for this happy occasion. We can't tell you how much it means to us," he says. "There are refreshments being served on the right side of the tent and Bradley and I will try and say a few words to everyone before we excuse ourselves." The words a veiled reference to the fact that he won't be claiming his boy in public. Not tonight. Not in front of such a mixed crowd.

Bradley clutches Louis's hand, smile so wide it nearly hurts his cheeks as he reaches up with his free hand, touches the collar lightly, still stunned and amazed that this is happening. That he gets to have this. "I love you so bloody much," he says to Louis, just loud enough to be heard over the cheering.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): a quiet morning at the office

jennandanica@gmail.com — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 23:35:18 GMT

players only. backdated. takes place before Citadel Courchevel and after Louis and Bradley get their test results.

Bradley's getting more and more comfortable at Citadel, and even rambles away from Louis a few times on their stroll in from the car, checking out a gorgeous painting and stopping to admire an antique suit of armor, before hurrying back to Louis's side, grinning at their greeter in the main hall with a cheeky little wave. "Hallo, luv," he recognizes her from his last visit, and it's always nice to see even a semi-familiar face in here. Even with Louis right there in arm's reach.

"Bonjour messieurs," Corinne chirps happily, thrilled to see Louis and his boy - especially his boy - again. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm very good, thank you," Louis answers, smiling over at Bradley. Clearly the concierge is smitten.

"Absolutely brilliant, Corinne," Bradley grins at her, leaning an elbow on her high concierge desk. "And seeing your smile's making it even better." Even this early in the day, it's grand to have someone beam at him like this gorgeous lady is doing, and he's not made of stone, after all. He still slips his hand into Louis's, though, and gives it a little squeeze. He'd hate to lead her on.

Louis signs in and hands the pen to Bradley to do the same. "You can undress here," he tells him. "And leave your clothes with Corinne. She'll make sure they're delivered to my quarters."

In the middle of signing, Bradley nearly chokes at Louis's words but pulls himself together before he makes an idiot of himself. Still, he can see Corinne's sly little smile and knows he's probably blushing hard.

"Yessir," he says, voice lower and already more submissive.

He is sure Corinne has seen far stranger, and yet, stripping down in front of her curious gaze is harder than it should be. He breathes deep and keeps stripping, folding everything neatly and stacking it on the desk, never meeting her eyes, until he's bare, shifting from foot to foot, hands fighting to stay at his sides and not reach to cover himself up. His cock, the traitor, is filling as he gets more embarrassed, and he bites his lip.

"Good boy," Louis says softly, pride rising in him at Bradley's unquestioning obedience. He turns to Corinne. "There's a package I left here last night. It should have my name on it."

She checks under the counter, rifling through the various packets before coming up with a small brown one with what she thinks is Louis's scrawl on the front. "Is this it, Monsieur?"

"Oui." He takes the package from her and opens it, lifting out the black leather collar with the O rings and a matching black leather and chain leash.

Bradley watches, wide-eyed. He'd no idea Louis had planned something in advance, and even though he's burning with curiosity, he stands still, waiting until Louis can open it. When he sees the collar and leash he sucks in a huge breath, eyes going even wider, nerves and excitement jolting through him.

"For me, sir?" he asks, softly.

"Mais oui," Louis nods, unfastening the collar and placing it around Bradley's neck, his fingers nimbly refastening the buckles. "Do you like it?"

Bradley reaches up and touches the collar, the cool smooth leather and the silky metal of the rings. He bites his lip, smiles at Louis, and nods, momentarily speechless.

"Good. It's yours then, but it stays with me and I'm the only one to put it on you," Louis says, picking up the leash and snapping the lead onto the front O ring. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, eyes skimming over all of Bradley.

The words touch Bradley, warm, deep inside. He straightens up and lifts his chin, proud to show off a little, have Louis look at him like this. The collar makes him feel formal and beautiful and even though his cheeks are still red, he smiles, wide and delighted, at Louis. "I love it," he murmurs.

Louis places a hand on Bradley's cheek, cupping it, leaning in and kissing him, softly, tongue dipping between his lips for a taste. "One tug," he whispers, giving the leash a short yank, "and you go to your knees. Two," one, two, short and sharp, "and you get back up."

Breathless from the kiss, Bradley swallows hard, feeling the collar press against his adam's apple as he does. He nods, speechless, the dizzy rush of subspace taking him down as hard as it's ever done in a scene. He crowds in a little closer to Louis, wanting the security of being close to his big, solid presence.

"Good boy." Louis smiles and nods at Corinne, exchanging a few words with her in French. "I have this book to drop off in the library and then we'll head upstairs," he says, motioning towards the library and leading the way, leash in hand.

The leash makes Bradley feels like he's a part of Louis, as if he's an arm, or a hand, something owned and valued and not to be left behind. He follows closely enough that the leash never tightens, but he keeps looking at the way Louis's hand holds the end, the casual and easy way he handles it, and shivers all over yet again. The people around barely register despite his nakedness; the collar and leash keep him focused in like a laser on Louis's every move.

"Bonjour Alex," Louis says to the young man behind the main desk in the library. He gives the leash a quick sharp tug. "I have this book to return and I believe Sebastian put another aside for me?"

The tug makes Bradley jump and then he remembers. He scrambles down to his knees, quickly, pressing up close against Louis's leg. He peeks up at Louis, making sure he's done the right thing.

But Louis is busy talking to Alex about the book put aside for him and whether the others in the set have been located. And Alex is busy trying not to show too much interest in the boy at Louis's feet, the boy everyone in the castle has heard about.

"Well, have Sebastian ring my office when he finds about the others, yes?"

"Of course, Monsieur," Alex says, glancing at the blonde hair, that gold fringe, getting a peek at those blue eyes as the boy glances at Louis, not yet well-trained enough to keep his eyes lowered always. But maybe that's what Louis likes. After training all those boys, maybe he likes the ones with their edges still rough.

Louis gives the leash two quick yanks, the movement barely there to anyone watching.

Feeling ungainly and awkward, Bradley gets back up to his feet. He expects to feel ignored or neglected, but instead, he's just calm, content, and secure; Louis has him on the leash, but he's busy, and Bradley will wait for his attention. He stays close, though, touching Louis's arm, listening curiously to the conversation.

"Now we'll go to my office," Louis says, leading the way, Bradley keeping close. He stops a couple of times en route to say good morning and ask how someone is doing but he never acknowledges Bradley or introduces him to anyone. This is not the day for that.

Finally they reach the main offices and Louis opens the door, guiding Bradley inside. "Bonjour, Marie." He smiles. "You look particularly lovely today, doesn't she, boy?"

Bradley feels like his tongue is heavy and clumsy, after being Louis's quiet shadow for so long. But he grins at Marie, nods, and manages "yes sir, very," though it's in a voice quieter than his usual. Louis's hand on his back feels hot and heavy, and standing naked next to Louis while he's still clothed... Bradley feels very small, and revels in the sensation.

Marie smiles. "Merci, both of you." She hands Louis a couple of file folders and a manila envelope overstuffed with papers. "Those are the interim reports on the current intake," she says in English, for Bradley's sake. "Would you like coffee and pastries brought in?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," Louis nods. "Thank you." They head down the hall to his office, Louis's hand still on the small of Bradley's back, maintaining that contact. "I forgot to mention that I'll be reviewing the interim reports with our trainers this morning." Well, not really, but he thought it better to wait until now to let Bradley know. "That means there will be people in and out of my office all morning. One at a time though. Will you be okay with that?"

Bradley blinks at him. People coming in and out...seeing him with Louis like this, bare and exposed and owned...his cock wakes back up, fills with quick jumps, and he blushes again.

"Yessir," he answers, though he thinks Louis has probably already read his answer in his body's reaction. He leans into Louis's reassuring touch. "I, will I be, do you want me to do anything? Or just sit with you?"

"No sitting," Louis says, closing the door behind them. "You'll kneel beside me, listen but not speak unless spoken to, and follow any other orders as I give them."

Biting his lip, eyes locked on Louis, Bradley nods submissively and silently. Now that Louis has banned talking, he won't take the chance of speaking out of turn. When Louis sits, he curls down onto his knees, shoulder just brushing Louis's leg. He looks up again, wanting to make sure he's doing it properly.

"You're doing beautifully," Louis assures him, running a hand through Bradley's hair before dumping the interim reports on his desk and starting to read through them.

Content, Bradley rests against Louis's leg. Despite his usual manic energy and quick-spinning mind, he is completely peaceful, quiet thoughts and not restless at all. He can just be, here like this, and his breathing slows and deepens as subspace settles its relaxation deep inside him. When the door knocks, he lifts his head, but doesn't move otherwise, waiting to see what Louis might do.

"Come in," Louis calls out.

It's Marie with their drinks and pastries and she sets the tray on the side table. "Michel is here to see you," she says. "Have you had a chance to read his report or do you want me to keep him a minute longer?"

"I've read it. It's fine, you can send him in, and thank you." Louis touches Bradley's hair and lets go of the leash which he's been holding loosely in his hand the whole time. "You can help yourself to a pastry and tea but have it here on the floor."

Thankful that it's warm in the office--he hasn't stiffened up, even though he's been kneeling for a while now--Bradley eases up off the floor and to his feet with a grateful smile to Louis. He can't quite look Marie in the eye as she turns to go, and hurries to get his tea and a little pastry, before hurrying back to Louis's side and settling back in. Just in time, as the door swings open and another stranger comes in.

"Bonjour, Louis," Michel says, doing a slight doubletake as he sees the boy kneeling beside his friend. "Comment ca va?"

"Ca va bien, et tu?" Louis asks, gesturing for Michel to take a seat. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, pastry?"

"No, thank you," Michel says, taking one of the chairs in front of Louis's desk and following Louis's lead by switching to English. "I'm fine."

"Michel, this is my boy, Bradley James," Louis says softly. "Bradley, this is Michel Girard. He's one of our very best trainers."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bradley," Michel says, nodding at the boy. Louis's boy.

Bradley is used to being surrounded by gorgeous people every day, but he's still startled by how pretty everyone is here. He watches with open curiosity as this Michel comes and sits across from Louis, taking in the blue eyes and black hair, the perfect tan, the easy smile. He finds himself grinning back, and nods a greeting and wiggles his fingers hello, though he remembers he's not supposed to speak.

He's wildly interested in what Louis and Michel might talk about, this 'training.' But he doesn't really recognize any of the names or half the things they're discussing, so he tunes out a little, tilting his head to rest comfortably against Louis's knee, leaning his weight on Louis's leg.

Their business concluded, Michel nods at Bradley. "He's very beautiful," he says to Louis. "And obviously very well-behaved. You're a lucky man."

Bradley preens a little at that, giving Michel his sweetest smile and even going so far as to flutter his lashes, a bit cheekily. He can't answer, but surely he should show his appreciation of the compliment somehow?

Louis gives a soft laugh, watching Bradley. "Yes I am and thank you, I think so too," he says, standing to shake Michel's hand and exchange a couple of quick words with him in their native language before dismissing him. "You may speak if spoken to," he tells Bradley, sitting back down. "I think I'd prefer that to having you flirt with my trainers."

Hearing the amusement hidden in Louis's voice, Bradley laughs up at him. "I wasn't flirting! I was just...being polite. He'd said something nice, after all, it'd be rude to just ignore him, right?" He nudges a little closer against Louis's leg. "I like this," he adds. "Here, with you, like this."

"I like it too," Louis says softly, sliding his hand into Bradley's hair again, gently massaging his scalp with his nails. "Very much." He smiles. "What would you have thought if I'd ordered you to go and sit on Michel's lap while we talked?" he asks.

Bradley flushes, eyes widening, even as he pushes against Louis's hand for more petting. "I, um. I don't know him or anything? It would have been...I'm naked," he finishes helplessly, unable to clearly express the mix of nerves, and embarrassment, and arousal that thought gives him. "Would he have liked that?"

"What do you think? You saw the way he looked at you," Louis says, fingers sliding lower, tracing the line of Bradley's collar.

"What would he have done?" Bradley's less nervous, more curious, now. Michel had been lovely, and he works with Louis, and anyone who works with Louis has a certain level of trust from Bradley that he's finding kind of startling. "I mean. Having a business meeting with a strange boy in your lap--your boss's strange boy--is that normal about here?"

"I don't really consider it a business meeting," Louis explains. "It's more... casual than that, which is why it could be normal. Sometimes we have the boys accompany their trainers." He slides a finger through one of the O rings and gives it a gentle tug. "He would have touched you, run his hand along your thigh, your chest, touched your cock if I gave him permission. Maybe asked for your mouth."

That little tug is all it takes for Bradley to tip his chin up, to the side, baring his throat for Louis. His eyes flutter half-closed as he imagines it. "I...oh. He would've. My cock, if he'd touched it...he could have just played with it like a toy..." it's hard, achingly so, has been since Bradley realized Louis would be having other people in his office with them, and it jerks, fluid pearling at the tip.

Louis nods, his own cock filling, arousal rearing its head. "And if I'd offered him your mouth?" he prompts, not because he has any such intention, but because he wants to know. Doesn't want to leave anything to chance or step wrong with his boy when he's still so new to everything.

"I...I don't know," Bradley confesses, hoarse and honest, eyes not opening. "I think I might have freaked out a little. Just a little. Just 'cause he's a total stranger, you know? I've never even seen the bloke before; if I knew him, it would have been okay I think."

Louis nods, taking every word in. "Would you feel any differently if it was your hand offered, instead of your mouth, or is it how well you know the person?"

"I think it's how well I know him," Bradley confesses. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself, a total stranger like that, him all dressed and you watching and me not knowing thing one about him." He opens his eyes, looks up at Louis with lust-fogged blue, almost all covered by black pupils, wide with arousal. "The touching though. That might've been brilliant."

"I'll keep that in mind," Louis says. "Although, to be honest, I'm not sure I want to share you even with someone you do know." There's something about Bradley, about having his own boy, that has him feeling surprisingly greedy. "Touching, as you say, would be one thing but I don't know that I want to share your mouth or your ass with anyone else."

That low purr of possessiveness in Louis's voice has Bradley smiling, curling closer to Louis's touch. "I don't mind that either," he says, a little breathless now. "I like those being for you. Just you." His hand creeps up and strokes Louis's thigh.

"Speaking of which," Louis murmurs, tugging again on that O ring and pulling Bradley between his legs. "Mouth, boy."

The tug on his collar has Bradley's bones melting, warm and wanting, and he eases between Louis's legs, mouth already watering. Nosing in, breathing in the good warm musky scent of him, and then reaching for his fly. He wants in, he doesn't need to be told twice, this is one of his very favorite things to do. When he frees Louis's cock, he's on it instantly, sucking the head in past his tight lips, working his tongue already. Eyes closed, blissful.

Louis leans back in his chair, hand sliding to the back of Bradley's neck, his eyes opening only when Marie buzzes to let him know Pascal has arrived. "Send him in," he says, rocking his hips a little, savouring Bradley's mouth and in absolutely no hurry to come.

Bradley freezes when he hears Louis's words, breathing carefully through his nose...then starts again, tongue flicking teasingly, a little shiver of anticipation rolling through him.

"Bonjour," Pascal sings out, flinging open the door, his eyes going wide at the sight of the blond head in Louis's lap. >I'd ask how you're doing, but obviously you're doing quite well<, he says with a smile, taking a seat. >Who's the boy?< He's fairly sure he knows all the trainees.

"He's mine," Louis says, fingers feathering through Bradley's hair. "His name's Bradley." He smiles at Pascal. "He doesn't speak much French."

Bradley can't see their visitor, but he can hear his voice; first the light, cheerful greeting and then the lower, more considering tone. He knows he's flushing, but he presses up against Louis's fingers in his hair, sucking hard then soft, only pulling off long enough to draw breath and lick up the length of Louis's shaft. He's stunned at how Louis is talking, calm and even as if nothing is happening, and he redoubles his effort. He wants to hear at least a quiver in that deep voice.

"Yours?" Pascal grins. "I'd heard the rumours but I didn't know whether to believe them," he says, eyes sparkling.

Louis groans softly and his eyes close for a moment before he quickly reopens them. "He's an actor. We haven't spent much time here, but he had a day off today."

Pascal nods, shifting a little so he has a better view. "Is this the first time he's done this?"

"Oui." Louis nods, cupping the back of Bradley's neck and pushing his cock a little deeper, his breath hitching sharply. "It seemed a good compromise between private and completely public."

Bradley hums, warm and satisfied, as Louis moans...and then smiles around Louis's cock when he feels and hears that tell-tale hitch of breath before Louis speaks again. Louis's hand is heavy against his neck; he's burning with curiosity to look at their visitor, see who it is, if he's watching, if he's interested, but he knows better than to stop before he's told. He keeps his eyes closed and relaxes his throat, holding still as Louis fucks his mouth even deeper.

He feels safe here, cradled between Louis's knees. All he can smell and taste is Louis, and even their voices fade out a bit, at the edges of his hearing as he focuses completely on breathing through his nose, taking Louis's cock into his mouth and throat.

They discuss Pascal's report and his upcoming vacation, Louis groaning softly as he pushes into Bradley's throat, his hips starting to stutter a little, his thrusts growing ragged, eyes heavy-lidded, his head falling back as he holds one finger up, pausing the conversation as he shoves in even harder before coming, hard, thick and heavy.

Bradley had been lulled into the rhythm, and Louis coming surprises him...he nearly chokes, then pulls himself together and swallows desperately, not missing any, before pulling off and gasping for air. He tips his head against Louis's thigh, eyes still closed, his own cock aching fiercely but mostly ignored, and enjoys feeling the fine trembling in the muscles of Louis's thigh and the fingers in his hair.

When he blinks his eyes open again, he's had them closed for long enough that he squints for a moment, re-adjusting to the light, before looking up to Louis for approval.

"Good boy," Louis says softly when Bradley pulls off and again when he opens his eyes and looks up at him. "Very good." He smiles and touches Bradley's cheek, pleased with his behaviour. "This is Pascal," he says, motioning at the man on the other side of the desk. "Pascal, Bradley."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Pascal says, nodding at Bradley.

"Hi," Bradley says, voice soft and a bit hoarse from the blowjob, cheeks still pink from the effort. He licks his chapped lips and offers Pascal a smile, only a little shy since Louis has praised him, and he knows he's done well. "I... haven't ever met anyone this way before. I dunno what to say, quite." He glances at Louis again, laughing at himself as he shakes his head.

"It's okay," Louis assures him. "You'll get used to it," he adds with a smile, keeping one hand on Bradley at all times, fingers touching his collar, threading through his hair, hand resting on his shoulder or the nape of his neck.

"I'm certainly used to it," Pascal says with a laugh. "Not with your sir. He doesn't make a habit of this, but it's not unusual for Citadel."

"I'd think it'd be hard to do maths," Bradley muses out loud, rubbing his cheek against Louis's leg unconsciously. "Probably too distracting if someone's doing the accounting, right?" He's still flushed, still can't quite look directly at Pascal, though the other man certainly doesn't sound at all surprised.

Louis laughs. "I would think so, although who knows, if you got used to your boy under the table, sucking you off all the time, you might be able to do anything. Isn't that right, Pascal?"

Pascal nods. "I know a few businesspeople who conduct their calls with their boys or girl under their desks and you'd never have an inkling from the other end of what's going on."

"I'm never going to be able to be on a conference call again without wondering what's going on on the other end," Bradley confesses, eyes drifting closed again under Louis's petting. Being this close to Louis, the presence of another person isn't troublesome at all; he's being cradled and held even though he's on the floor, and he feels completely safe. And a little proud, that Louis is showing him off like this.

Pascal smiles and gets to his feet. "I should be going," he says, nodding at Louis. "I have a session in fifteen minutes and it's that new boy, the private contract one. I might have to ask for your help with his sir if he doesn't start showing some progress."

Louis exhales softly. "The redhead? Brian, is it?" he asks, continuing to pet Bradley.

Pascal nods. "He's gorgeous and strong-willed and probably completely wrong for his sir." He sighs. "He needs someone who appreciates him the way he is."

Bradley frowns a little against Louis's thigh, thinking of the words he's hearing. What if Louis had wanted him...different? What if he'd sent him off for some sort of behavior training, or tried to, when he'd realized Bradley was so new at all of this? Bradley shivers lightly at the thought, pressing closer again. Hoping that Louis will keep liking him just the way he is now, since he doesn't know that he's capable of changing the way this poor chap Brian seems to be trying.

"His sir has unrealistic expectations," Louis says. "I expect from reading too many stories and filling his head full of notions about what a boy should be." He sighs again and smiles at Pascal. "I think I can talk some sense into him if needed."

"Good. Merci," Pascal says. "And again, it was lovely meeting you, Bradley."

"You too," Bradley nods to him politely, mind whirling with how fortunate he is to have found Louis. Once Pascal makes his way out the door, Bradley looks up at Louis with worried eyes. "That boy," he starts, not entirely sure how to ask. "He... you think you really can 'talk some sense' into his sir?" He knows that he himself would lie down in traffic, possibly literally, if Louis asked it of him while in subspace. He can only imagine what might happen if a dom asked a boy to change something fundamental about himself, in that state.

"I certainly hope so," Louis says, cupping Bradley's cheek again. "It's hard when a dominant and submissive love each other but have such different ideas about their roles and what each other should be."

Subdued by the thought of what that might be like, Bradley nods, rubbing his cheek into Louis's palm. "I was just thinking how, it's even harder though with this sort of relationship. If you were to ask me things, when we're like this, when all I want to do is hear you say 'good boy...' I dunno if I could say no."

"I know, and that's something a good dominant has to be careful with," Louis says. "But in this case, they're both being... less than intelligent. The boy thinks he wants to be the perfect submissive for his sir, but one, there's no such thing and two, not everyone is meant to get even close. There's a certain natural submissiveness that can't be taught and if a boy's lacking in that, he's better off finding someone who appreciates the level he can offer."

Bradley tips his head, thinking that over. "It's hard, though," he finally answers. "I was always told I was too small, not quite fast enough to be a footballer. And I worked so hard that it didn't matter, after a while, and if you're a competitive sort it isn't easy to accept that you can't just... work harder. Make it happen, no matter what." He glances up at Louis again. "You... you're happy, with how I am? With you?"

Louis smiles. "I'm ecstatic," he says. "I can't imagine a more perfect boy - or partner - for me."

Bradley breathes deep in relief, and then beams at Louis, joy all over his face. "Me too," he replies, simply, reaching for Louis's hand and twining their fingers together.

With Bradley at his feet, Louis finishes the rest of his meetings, every report reviewed and summarized for the board, the current intake nothing but successful, a true rarity. Finally, his summary emailed to the board members, Louis sits back, noting the time. Well after noon. "Are you hungry?" he asks, stroking Bradley's hair.

Bradley thinks anxiously about his new diet, scheduled to start this week, but this is his time with Louis. His time away from the world, really, and all the craziness of his job. He nods, loving the feel of the fingers in his hair. "Definitely. Are we going back to your rooms?"

"Maybe later. I thought we'd have lunch in the dining room," Louis says, waiting for Bradley's reaction.

Reaching up with one hand, Bradley touches his collar with his fingertips. He thinks that with this and his leash, he could follow Louis through the streets of downtown Paris if he were asked.

"Yessir," he nods, taking a deep and steadying breath. Surely it can't be any worse than here, with people coming in and out, and everyone will be eating and paying attention to their own partners there.

"Good." Louis smiles and picks up the leash which has been resting beside him. "Keep your eyes lowered and if anyone speaks to you, you're to respond with deference, or let me respond for you if you're unsure."

"I can do the quiet thing, but I'm not used to looking down," Bradley mumbles, getting to his feet beside Louis, stretching a little to crack his back. "I, uh. Maybe I'd just better let you do the talking?"

Louis smiles and leans in, kissing Bradley softly on the mouth. "I have every confidence in you," he says quietly. "You've made me very proud this morning and I expect you'll only continue to do so."

Bradley grins at Louis, beamingly proud that Louis is pleased with him. "The leash... and you... make me feel safe," he confesses. "It's like magic. Like you're holding my hand even when you're not."

"It does keep you close," Louis says, giving the leash a small tug, leading Bradley to the door. "Serves as a bond between us." His office locked behind him. They stop at the front desk. "Marie, we're going for lunch now."

Marie looks up, smiling at both men. "Could you have them send me up some soup and salad?" she asks, too busy to take the time to call down.

"Mais oui. Is there anything else?" Louis smiles.

"No thank you," Marie says. "Oh. I forgot. Josh called while you were in with Johan. I said you would call back this afternoon."

"He didn't say anything?"

"No. He said that would be fine. He's working from home today."

"That's the Josh you told me about one time, right, your friend?" Bradley murmurs as they walk away. "Your really good friend, you wanna call him first? I can wait." His diet, he thinks, will thank him if they have a little less time in the dining room, and anyway, he's so curious about this Josh person.

"No, I'll call him later," Louis says, shaking his head. "We actually spoke the other day and he's most likely calling with his travel arrangements."

"He's coming to visit?" Bradley sees someone coming in the hall, someone he doesn't know, and unsure what to do he ducks his head and half-hides behind Louis's shoulder.

"He and his boy," Louis clarifies, smiling as Bradley falls in behind him. "You don't have to lower your head," he says. "Only your eyes."

"Okay," Bradley says, lifting his head again with a relieved sigh. "Can I meet them? Josh and his boy, I mean, if you think it'd be fun?" He drops his voice as they make their way into the dining room, glancing around again, face pink, but proud to be with Louis like this.

"Of course." Louis greets the concierge, arranging for Marie's lunch to be sent up to her and asking for a table off to the side, away from the majority of diners. "They're mostly coming to meet you," he confesses as they're led through the hall, towards the back, by the fireplace.

"Really?" Bradley meets Louis's eyes, curious and pleased. "I want to meet them too. I want to hear all the embarrassing stories about you from Josh, especially." He grins, just a little wicked.

"We'll see about that," Louis say firmly, but his eyes are crinkling at the corners. He takes a seat at the table and gives the leash a quick almost imperceptible tug.

Startled, Bradley sways a little, then remembers what that tug means. He gets down quickly onto his knees, much more gracefully this time. Just as with Louis's office, he feels safe down here, more hidden, protected. He can see others like him, also on the floor beside chairs in the dining room, and he sighs with pleasure. It feels like home.

"You like this, don't you?" Louis says, fascinated. "Even down here." In the very public dining room.

"My friends always say I'm a show off," Bradley murmurs, warm and content against Louis's leg. "But like this, I'm yours. I don't have to chat up reporters or know my lines. I'm just me here, but yours, you can show me off all you like, 'cause I'm with you."

"And the leash and collar make things different?" It's not the first time he's had this conversation but this is Bradley, his boy, and he wants to know about his experiences, his feelings. "Or is it being on the floor?"

"It's both, but...the leash and collar, I think, mostly," Bradley answers slowly, thinking about it as he speaks. "I could be standing or anything and I would still love being like this. With you." He reaches up and touches the collar with his fingertips again.

A waiter approaches and Louis takes a moment to order them a bottle of wine and some appetizers to start. "Would you like to wear it all the time?" he asks, nodding at the collar. "When we're alone, I mean. In town."

"I could do that?" Bradley asks, eagerly. "It would be brilliant. I mean, sure, I'd have to wear more collared shirts, maybe polos or something, but yes. I'd love that." It won't be quite as perfect without the leash, but feeling the collar around his neck feels strangely like having Louis's hand on him, even when they're not touching.

"Good." Louis smiles then exhales softly, watching Bradley. So in love with his boy. "I know it's after the fact but I'd like to have a small collaring ceremony when Josh and Jesse are here."

Catching a flash of raw emotion on Louis's face, Bradley reaches for his hand and squeezes it. "That would be fantastic," he says, beaming at Louis. Then pauses, sheepish. "What's a collaring ceremony?"

"It's when a dominant makes a public declaration that they are collaring their submissive and intend to care for them and be responsible for them," Louis says, sitting back again as the server returns with their wine and waits while Louis gives his approval. "For some it's rather like a marriage but it can also be something quite simple - a declaration in front of friends of your intentions."

"Oh," Bradley says, and "oh," he breathes a moment later, when it really sinks in. He doesn't let go of Louis's hand. "It's like the contract, only more. For other people to see, too, so we can say it in front of them." His eyes feel like saucers, but he can't stop smiling.

Louis nods. "Have you told any of your friends?" he asks. It's not really something they've discussed since they first started seeing each other.

"About you? Yeah, sure. They all tease me about my mysterious boyfriend, even after you came to the game. Maybe more since then, since they got to see what a catch you are." Bradley glances down, flushing just a little bit. "Angel and Colin... I told them, not details, but a bit more. You know, just in case they were to see something unusual, I wouldn't want them in a strop about it. But generally, yeah, they know how we are together."

"But not enough for you to want them to attend?" Louis clarifies, taking a sip of wine.

"I'd like Angel to come," Bradley says slowly, watching Louis sip his wine. Even that is ridiculously sexy. "I... maybe Colin, too? If it'll be non-kinky-person friendly? I wouldn't be naked in chains or anything... would I?"

"No, of course not. Would you like some?" Louis asks, offering Bradley his glass. "Not if you'd like to invite your friends. We can keep it quite vanilla."

Bradley sips a little, carefully, from the glass Louis is holding. Smiles his thanks. "I think I'd like to ask them, if it's okay. If they're comfortable coming, I'd love to have them there," he confesses. "They're rather my family over here, after all this time away from England."

"But of course." Their appetizers arrive and Louis places their lunch order with the server, requesting that Bradley's meal be cut into pieces suitable for handfeeding. "I'm going to keep you down there for the entire meal," he tells him, picking up a piece of phyllo-wrapped goat cheese and offering it to Bradley.

"I like it down here," Bradley admits. "Without any clothes, it'd feel awfully strange to sit at table." He delicately nips the treat out of Louis's fingers, and smiles at the taste. "Delicious," he hums, and looks up, hoping for more.

"Everything that comes out of our kitchen is delicious," Louis says with a smile. "Try one of these. It's foie gras wrapped in the same phyllo pastry." Offering Bradley another morsel.

"Oh my god," Bradley moans, the taste of this one exploding on his tongue. He closes his eyes in bliss. He loves food. "Don't, stop, I'll get so fat, seriously," he complains, even as he looks for more.

"No, you won't," Louis says, offering him another, far more interested in feeding Bradley and watching him eat than in eating himself. "I'll make certain you work it off," he adds with a slightly wicked gleam in his eye.

Bradley laughs in response to that twinkle in Louis's eye, leans up and takes the next bite of food, savoring it. This time he manages to lick the tip of Louis's finger, too, and it makes the foie gras taste even better as he closes his eyes and enjoys the taste and feeling.

Louis moans softly and his cock throbs, starting to fill again. He picks up a bite-sized samosa and dips it in the chutney provided. "Try this," he says, offering it to Bradley in a way that he has no choice but to get his mouth on Louis's fingers.

This time, Bradley takes the bite and manages to suck Louis's fingers in all the way up to the first knuckle, licking and sucking carefully before he has to pull away to chew the treat. "Mmm," he hums, grinning. "Delicious."

Mon dieu. It's all Louis can do to keep his hands off his boy, to feed him a few more appetizers and wait for their actual meals to arrive. "I might not be able to wait for us to get back to the office before I take advantage of you," he informs Bradley quietly, watching for his reaction.

Bradley looks up at Louis through his lowered lashes, feels his breath stutter in his throat. "Is... isn't that what I'm here for? Sir?" He himself is still achingly, painfully hard, and has been for so long that he's almost gotten used to the feeling. Still, the thought of servicing Louis like this, having him stake his claim here in front of everyone, it's terrifying as much as it is arousing.

Louis signals for their server. He requests the kitchen hold their main meals and asks for a condom and lube, watching Bradley as the server crosses the dining room to the maitre d's desk where supplies are kept.

Bradley keeps his eyes locked on Louis, almost holding his breath, waiting to see what's coming next. His fingers are trembling a little, but when he touches Louis's thigh, the tremble stills. Louis will take care of him, he knows, and takes a deep breath.

When the server returns with the packets, Louis pats his lap. "Come up here, facing me," he orders, thinking this time.

The floor is safe and sheltered, and Louis's lap looks miles away. Bradley obeys, though, and eases himself up off the floor, tossing his hair back out of his eyes, refusing to hide or cringe away from all the eyes he can feel, though he knows his cheeks are flaming red. He slips into Louis's lap, putting on the best show he can, stretching and arching a little as he settles straddling Louis's thighs, facing him.

"You are so beautiful," Louis murmurs, reaching between them to unfasten his trousers and release his cock, the condom quickly smoothed down over it. "So very beautiful." The packet of lube torn open, its contents used to slick his fingers. "My boy." Those fingers pressed between Bradley's cheeks, delving into his cleft, into his hole, one finger pushed in, all the way in, before being joined by a second.

Bradley gasps, loud and startled, getting his arms up around Louis's shoulders as he arches against those invasive fingers. They're rough and unhesitating, just how he likes it, touching him inside and firing his nerves so brightly he feels like sparks might be coming off his fingers. "Oh, oh oh oh," he breathes, belly shivering as his body stretches and eases around Louis's fingers, his cock already leaking from its painfully red and swollen head.

Cock throbbing, Louis pushes a third finger inside Bradley, working them in and out. "You're being so good for me," he praises, eyes locked on Bradley's, ignoring those around them completely.

Bradley blinks to focus on Louis again, dazed already, trying to keep his breathing steady as Louis's fingers tease and press and stimulate him. "I... feels so good," he moans, voice low and hoarse. "Sir," he cries out, a little louder, as Louis strokes his prostate again. "Oh, god, please, or I won't be able to hold on."

"What do you want?" Louis breathes, his fingers stilling and his cock pulsing sharply. "Tell me. I want to hear it."

Bradley ducks his head, bringing his mouth close to Louis's ear. "Your cock," he answers, helpless. "Please, please fuck me. Please, sir."

"Good boy," Louis murmurs, pulling his fingers free and wiping them on a napkin. He spreads Bradley's cheeks, cock nudging against his hole and slowly pushes in, his eyes locked on his boy's face

It's exactly what Bradley was craving. Thick and hard and perfect, pushing into him, almost lifting him up off Louis's lap. He squirms a little, gasping, getting himself angled just right and shoving himself down. Taking Louis's cock all the way into himself, so full that he can barely breathe, staring into Louis's eyes, grounding himself.

Louis groans, the sound soft but ragged, his cock pulsing inside Bradley. "Mon dieu," he breathes, keeping Bradley's cheeks spread as he pushes up into him, deep, so deep, before pulling back and then thrusting in again.

Bradley feels like his bones have all turned liquid, he just falls apart around Louis's cock. Every thrust rocks him up and then back down, Louis coring him so deep in this position that it feels like he's impossibly full. And the friction of his cock against Louis's belly is delicious torture, keeping him trembling on the edge, little gasps escaping with every deep push.

"Now the question is," Louis whispers, continuing to thrust, his rhythm deep and steady. "Do I let you come or leave you aching...?"

"Please," Bradley whimpers, face still tucked against Louis's cheek, "please let me come. Please, sir, please." He's half-afraid that he won't be able to hold it in, if he's not given permission. Not after all these hours of teasing and stimulation, not in front of all these people.

Louis can't deny him. He slides one hand between them and wraps his fingers around Bradley's cock, matching strokes to thrusts. "Good boy. Now come for me," he whispers. "Pull me over with you."

Bradley's been up and down so often today, so close to the edge and then pulled back, that for a panicked instant he doesn't think he'll be able to come at all. Then something inside him relaxes in response to Louis's words and his hand and he shudders bone-deep as he comes, so powerful that he nearly sobs into Louis's shoulder, the pulses wracking his whole body over and over.

Louis curses under his breath, the clench of Bradley's body pushing him over, and he climaxes too, hard, thick, heavy spurts filling the latex between them. His hand wet with Bradley's come. Pride swelling his chest at the thought that they're being watched, that Bradley's trusted him this much. "Good boy," he says softly, gentling his touch and stroking Bradley through every last aftershock.

Bradley is floating, the intense pleasure of the orgasm still rippling through him. Louis's praise and touch just keep it alive longer, and though he's aware of the murmur of voices around them, the clank of silverware and glasses, it's easier to just put his face in Louis's shoulder and let it all drift. When the shivers finally slow, he presses a light kiss to Louis's jaw, right under his ear.

Louis smiles and holds Bradley tight against his chest, well aware his clothes are likely a mess now, but he could care less. "Are you still okay to eat here or would you like us to go back to my quarters?" he asks, more than willing to make these allowances if Bradley needs them, especially after making such a huge step today.

Dazed, Bradley lifts his head and looks at Louis, processing the question slowly. "I'd...I'd like to go back, if that's okay." Now that he's come, he's becoming more aware of all their dining companions; it doesn't bother him exactly, but he feels very naked and exposed, and like he could use some quiet time.

Louis nods. "It's more than okay," he whispers, smiling and kissing Bradley softly on the mouth before motioning for the server.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): Sunday morning at Citadel

jennandanica@gmail.com — Sun, 09 Jan 2011 03:30:32 GMT

players only. backdated. takes place the day after Louis introduces Bradley to Citadel.

By the time he's finished three eggs, two coffees and a tea, toast and rashers of bacon and a lovely bit of fruit while sitting in Louis's little dining nook, Bradley is finally starting to feel more human. He'd woken up groggy and disoriented, but having Louis warm and comforting at his side had helped, and now his eyes are wide open and he's feeling the spring come back to his step.

He grins across the table at Louis. "I'll have to watch myself in this place. I'll walk out ten pounds heavier than I walked in, with food like this. Delivered to your door." Louis himself looks good enough to eat.

"Next time, I'll keep you to muesli and some fruit," Louis teases, smiling back over his coffee.

Making an exaggerated face of horror, Bradley pulls his decimated plate close to him, protectively. "Muesli? Surely you can't hate me as much as that. Muesli isn't food. It's like, I don't even know. Tree bits."

"But it's good for you," Louis says, maintaining a straight face despite the expression on Bradley's. "Part of a balanced breakfast."

"Oh, that's foul play," Bradley complains, deeply suspicious of just how stonefaced Louis is. "I haven't seen *you* eating the nasty stuff. I'm a growing boy, I need more than sawdust for breakfast. Especially since we've all that exploring still to do today. You wouldn't want me fainting over from hunger, would you?"

"Most certainly not," Louis says, setting their empty plates back on the tray. "Not when I was intending on showing you exactly how one of those slings works."

A slow, hot flush makes its way up Bradley's throat, pinking his cheekbones, and his eyes go dark. "Really? The one in the big room?" He remembers how it looked, the sleek, elegant web of lines, the way every part of him would be available for Louis's touch.

"They'll be using the training room this morning," Louis says, aroused by Bradley's reaction, by the pink warming his cheeks. "But there are several like it in the dungeon and no one will be down there at this time of morning, and we can get a room without any windows." Reassuring Bradley before his boy starts to worry.

His protest quieted by Louis's quick addition of the details of the room, Bradley feels his cock jump, start to fill, and he squirms, flushing even more deeply. "Just the two of us? In the room? I...god. I want that," he breathes the last, food forgotten, coffee forgotten, eyes nearly black with arousal as he looks at Louis.

"Good. Let's head down," Louis says, standing and holding his hand out to Bradley.

"Okay," Bradley says, licking his lips, standing, and putting his hand trustingly in Louis's. Twining their fingers together, standing very close.

Louis kisses Bradley on the tip of the nose then the mouth. "Give me just a minute," he says, going back to his bedroom closet for a huge fluffy white robe to bring with them before taking Bradley's hand again, explaining, "There's no bed down there and you might not want to get back into your clothes after."

"I don't know whether that's scary or amazing," Bradley confesses, huffing a little laugh, latching back on tightly to Louis's hand as soon as he can. "But I do know you're lovely for thinking of it."

"There are blankets down there," Louis says with a small shrug, not wanting Bradley to think they're entirely unprepared, "but it's not the same." Locking up, his wallet and keys tucked into his back pocket. He gives Bradley's hand a squeeze and smiles down at him. "Remember, if you need me to slow down, you can say yellow, and if you really need me to stop, you use your safeword."

Remembering the day before, the paddle, Bradley nods, taking it very seriously indeed. "I will, promise." As they make their way down the hall, through the great room in the entry part of the building, he keeps looking around, noticing new things each time. He has the feeling he could spend weeks here, and still be fascinated. Carefully not-staring at a naked man with bandages on his hands, he's curious again. "What happens if, if someone uses yellow or their safeword, and the top doesn't stop?" He can imagine it happening, in the heat of the moment with some people, and shivers a little.

"That depends. We try to vet our members. Part of the paperwork you'll have to complete is a psychological exam. It's supposed to indicate certain tendencies and when we see those, we deny those applications. That takes care of part of the problem." Louis pauses for a moment. "Once in the club, there are buttons in each room linked directly to security, as well as the phones, and we teach members to use appropriate measures so they hopefully don't find themselves in that sort of situation, but occasionally, yes, everything fails and someone ends up hurt or hopefully just scared. In those cases, we suspend memberships, sometimes cancel them." Sometimes more, but he's not going to get into that with Bradley. It's the dark side of Citadel and one he doesn't want to discuss. "We make sure the member in distress gets the care they need. It's very very unusual within the club to have that happen though. Outside, it's like anything - like going home with the wrong person. You have to do your research, protect yourself, follow your gut instincts..."

Bradley nods. "Takes it a bit further when you're letting someone handcuff you to a rack and beat you, though, I'd imagine," he theorizes, voice quiet. "I'm glad you take those steps. The wrong sort could do a lot of damage, situations like these." He brightens again, putting it out of his mind, as they pass a door to what looks to be a garden or a greenhouse, with fountains and trees, complete with picnic tables. Antique ones, of course, and the glass to the outside world is glazed, but still... "I don't suppose it's possible to have a naked picnic here, out of doors?"

"Yes, of course. Why not?"

Bradley tips his free shoulder in half a shrug, grinning at him sideways. "Perhaps I just want to see what you look like naked, rolling about in the grass. But I've always thought it'd be lovely, shagging out of doors. Never had the chance before, not without worrying about someone happening by."

Louis grins back. "When it gets a little warmer, I promise we'll have your picnic."

"Wonderful." A little giddy with anticipation and nerves and arousal, Bradley glances back at Louis as they enter the hallway to the dungeons. "I shall make you a daisy chain, I think. It'll be ever so cute, on your hair."

That gets a raised eyebrow. "I think someone may have had too much coffee this morning," Louis teases, lighting lamps as they go.

"Hours and hours of amazing, incredible sex with your gorgeous lover, and then eight good hours of sleep," Bradley counters, "it'd put anyone in a good mood. And more to come, even." Though he's got a little shiver of apprehension now, he's starting to get used to that, with all the new things they've been doing. It's starting to trigger even more arousal, when he feels it now, and he's uncomfortable in his jeans, reaching down to adjust himself.

"Boy." The word's soft but with an edge of steel behind it, Louis having noticed the adjustment.

Startled, Bradley's eyes fly up to meet Louis's, and he freezes at that tone in Louis's voice. "Yes, sir?" he asks, wondering what he's done wrong.

"That counts as touching yourself sexually," Louis says, nodding at Bradley's crotch. "Without permission."

"Oh, oh!" Bradley snatches his hand off his cock, flushing. "Sorry, sorry. It was just. I'm used to the cage, I didn't even think."

Louis nods, opening up the cell he wants. "I know, which is why I'll let it go, this time."

With the sneaking suspicion that Louis is treating him with far more mercy than he'd show another boy, here, in this area, Bradley nods gratefully. And follows Louis into the room.

It's spare, clean, somehow giving the impression of age even with the shining frame standing in the center, the sling elegant and menacing hanging from it. He shivers, stepping closer to Louis. It's perfectly warm in the room, but he likes being close.

Louis pulls Bradley in for a moment, hugging and kissing him, mouth on his, trailing down his throat to the curve of his shoulder just inside his shirt. "Undress for me," he orders, finally drawing back.

This time, when Bradley obeys, he makes it a show; pulling his sleeves off one by one and shrugging his shirt slowly down his back, stepping out of his trousers as gracefully as he can, slipping out of shoes and socks and finally, coming to rest on his knees in front of Louis. Kneeling with perfect posture, spine straight as an arrow, knees spread, just as he's been taught. And looking up into Louis's eyes.

"You are so beautiful," Louis whispers, the very fact of it striking him like new again and again. Hand cupping Bradley's cheek, thumb tracing the bone.

"You're the beautiful one," Bradley murmurs back, turning his cheek into the caress, catlike. "It's why I'm on my knees for you. Why I love being on my knees for you. One of lots of reasons, anyway."

Louis smiles. "Come up here and undress me," he says after another long minute of simply enjoying the moment.

Smiling back, Bradley rises back up to his feet, and eagerly starts undressing Louis, much more efficiently and quickly than he'd done himself. Though he does pause to run appreciative hands down Louis's chest, parting his shirt before pushing it back off his shoulders, and strokes the fine, soft skin over his hipbones as he pulls down his trousers. When Louis is finally naked, making Bradley's mouth water, Bradley steps back, expectant and waiting.

"Can you get yourself into the sling?" Louis asks, gesturing at it with one hand, unsure whether to offer help first or step in only when needed.

Bradley looks at the sling, then back at Louis. "Can you show me?" he asks carefully. His inner bravado is urging him to just do it, but he knows that it's probably more complex than it looks, and he is conscious of the need to fight that inner macho voice. "I would...it would be good, for the first time, I think?"

"Here." Louis moves to push the front of the sling down with one hand so Bradley can sit on the edge. "Push yourself back onto it like you would a swing and then just... wiggle until you're comfortable," he says, unsure how to explain it otherwise. It's been a long time since he's been in one himself.

"It's like a hammock, rather," Bradley notes, squeaking and grabbing Louis as his feet leave the ground and he wobbles into the seat, losing his balance. It's not graceful, he imagines, but he steadies, breathes, slides back, and suddenly he's suspended and balanced on his tailbone, almost feeling like he's floating.

A wave of desire, subspace, lust, everything, crashes over him as he feels Louis's skin under his fingertips, as he realizes how vulnerable he truly is, how far he wants to go. He picks his feet up off the ground, resting them against the cables, legs spread so wide he can feel the cool air on his hole, his balls, his cock as he leans back with a desperate little moan, letting the sling take all his weight, holding him up and free.

Louis smiles at the moan. "You like it, do you?" he says, running his hands along the inside of Bradley's thighs.

"Love it," Bradley confirms, voice a little breathy as he watches Louis from under half-closed lids. The touch of his hands is electric, and when he squirms, the sling moves with him, rocking gently. Adding to the floating feeling even more.

"Good. Here," Louis says, taking one foot and then the other and placing them into the stirrups. "This will make things even better."

"Oh." Bradley's hips go even more liquid as his thighs are spread more widely, as his muscles can relax, not having to hold his own weight balanced. He takes a deep breath, lets it out, and smiles at Louis, slow and easy with the warmth of subspace. "Oh, that's lovely."

Louis smiles back, pleased Bradley likes it so far. "Would you like a cockring? I plan on tormenting you for a while and it might make it easier for you to hold back."

Blinking up at Louis, it takes a moment for Bradley to process what he's saying, how casually he's promising torment and torture. "I...yes? Yes, I think, if you're going to, and I need to, yes." There's already precome pearling on the tip of his cock, where it's lying rigid against his belly. He squirms again, blushing yet again as he realizes how spread wide, open, vulnerable he is to Louis's eyes and hands. Nearly every secret inch of him.

Louis stays right where is for a moment, thoroughly enjoying the squirming, but eventually he has to move and he comes back quickly with a black leather cockring which he fastens tightly, but not too tightly, around Bradley's cock and balls. "There you are," he says, hands on the chains, leaning down to lick that drop of precome from the tip of Bradley's cock. "Better?"

The heat of Louis's tongue on the tip of his cock freezes Bradley's breath in his chest, and he exhales it finally after a long moment of stillness, all his nerve endings sparking. "Better," he says, voice already thin and a little strained. "Feels so good."

Louis smiles and slicks up his fingers with lube from the bottle he brought back with him, making a show of it. He pushes two firmly into Bradley without further ado, curling them to rub over his prostate.

Those two fingers, slick and cool with lube, are like a live wire; Bradley arches up, mouth open in a silent gasp. Louis's fingers unerringly find and rub over the bundle of nerves that is such pleasurable torture, and Bradley's grateful for the stirrups, grateful for the webbing he's grasping with both hands, keeping himself anchored. "Oh god," he finally gasps, "please, yes, more of that, sir."

"More?" Louis is glad to oblige and pushes a third finger in alongside the first two, working them deep and then deeper before pulling back to stroke over that oh so sensitive spot again, his eyes locked on Bradley's face, tracing every flash of ecstasy that crosses his features.

Every time Louis's fingers press on that spot, Bradley's hips jerk and yearn upwards, rocking the sling in the rhythm of Louis's hand. His whole body, his whole world, is moving, and it's like being in the ocean, weightless, drifting. He's deeper in subspace than he's ever been, pupils blown wide, face pale, mind slowly losing any coherence he might have been clinging to. Spread wide and vulnerable like this, hanging in mid-air, it does something to him.

"Good boy," Louis murmurs, working his fingers slowly in and out, his cock hard, ever-insistent but ignored and throbbing violently when he adds a fourth finger, eyes dropping between Bradley's thighs, watching where they're disappearing into him, how his hole flutters when they leave, begging for them back.

Four fingers, as always, are sharp and painful for Bradley, his body instinctively tightening around the knuckles, struggling to accept them even as he tries to get them deeper inside. He's gasping now, a nearly soundless struggle for air, trying to keep himself together as the pain and pleasure buzz through him, setting him twisting his hips and biting at his own lips.

"Deep breaths for me," Louis says, working those four fingers as deep as they'll go, knowing it's hard for Bradley to take them. He adds more lube to his fingers on the way out then pushes slowly back in, working on stretching the soft pink skin around them.

Louis's deep, calm voice, and the easy, almost medical instruction, helps Bradley ease down. He takes those deep breaths, one, then another, trying to convince his clenching hole to ease. The pain is countered by that sweet pressure on his prostate, and as he breathes his muscles slowly, reluctantly start to relax.

"That's it. Exactly like that," Louis murmurs, watching Bradley, his cock throbbing as the skin stretches, eases, opens to take him still deeper. "Good boy." Slowly working his hand in and out, waiting for the pain to fully ease.

With a long sigh, Bradley feels the last lingering tension leave him, his hole spreading easily now under Louis's unrelenting pressure. As the four fingers slide into him he moans, hips lifting into the push, eyes falling closed as everything in him focuses on the intense, searing pleasure that's turning his spine liquid.

Bradley's so beautiful. It takes Louis's breath away. "I want you to try and take a little more for me," he says softly. "Do you think you can do that?"

Bradley breathes again, deep and slow, and nods, eyes flying open to fix anxiously on Louis's face. "I can try," he says, voice husky and raw. He wants to keep his gaze on Louis, wants that grounding, as the fingers stretch and push and spread him wider.

"Good boy," Louis whispers, pouring still more lube onto his fingers. He doesn't go straight to five though, instead taking his time with the four still inside Bradley, spreading them to stretch his hole, ease his path, show Bradley that it will become easier, better.

The spread of four fingers, twisting inside him has Bradley arching up again, breathing heavily through his nose, teeth clamped on his lower lip. It's just so much, so intense, the way he's being stretched wide, slow but sure, a deep ache that's so intense his hands are shaking where he's clinging on to the webbing of the sling. There's almost no pain now, just that ache and a burning, building pleasure that's mounting like a wave.

"Very good," Louis murmurs, eyes locked on Bradley's, making sure that connection's strong as he draws back, tucks his thumb in against his palm and slowly pushes back in. Easing the cone-shaped wedge of his fingers into Bradley's body.

Bradley sucks in a huge breath, holds it, bearing fiercely down on the width of Louis's hand as it breaches his body. It's like nothing he's ever felt, warm and flexible like no plug or dildo could ever be, and then the widest part, the third knuckles are inside him and he's keening, a high thin sound as he throws back his head and shivers all over, stretched impossibly wide, eyes all pupil and still staring blindly into Louis's.

"There you go," Louis whispers, the praise clear in his tone. "Five fingers." He knows it's more than Bradley's ever taken before.

Bradley nods silently, mouth open a little as he silently struggles to breathe easily. It feels like he's being split in two, in the best possible way, and he soaks in Louis's praise, the smile in his eyes, and lets it sink down deep inside him, relaxing him even further. Five. He's got five fingers in him now and he's doing it, and it feels wonderful.

"Next time, I'll set up a mirror so you can see," Louis tells him, slowly working his hand back and forth, those same knuckles breaching Bradley's body again and again, their path easing with every push.

Bradley enjoys looking at himself, but he feels like he might just fly apart if he takes his eyes from Louis's for even a split second. It's growing like a wave, this feeling that Louis is inside him, in his body, part of him, and each steady push rocks him in the sling and then rocks him back, further onto Louis's hand, the painful burning stretch easing into a terrifyingly vulnerable feeling of openness. "Is it all inside?" he gasps, finally finding words, whole body wracking with shivers at each push.

"Almost," Louis whispers, stunned by how badly he wants this, and how much Bradley obviously does too. It's a risk, pushing him so far this soon but they are so close. "Take another deep breath for me," he orders, pouring more lube onto the base of his hand and slowly pushing deeper, until suddenly, Bradley's body opens up, pulling him in, his hole clamping down around his wrist.

Bradley had thought he was full, thought there was no more room, thought this was as far as they could possibly go. Then there's a shift, a soft release of all the tension left in his muscles, and Louis's hand is suddenly inside him. INSIDE HIM. He's frozen with it, holding his breath, trapped in this endless hanging moment of shock and awe and perfect completion.

He has to breathe and that breaks the spell, and he's blinking hard, moisture leaking from the corners of his eyes as he gasps, overwhelmed, trembling all the way to his fingertips, feeling like Louis could stretch out his fingers and touch Bradley's heart.

"Good boy. There you go," Louis nods, smiling, his chest tight with emotion, stunned by how they've managed this. "Give me your hand," he whispers, gesturing with his free one.

Bradley reaches out his own hand, trembling like a leaf in the wind, to meet Louis's. It instantly calms him, grounds him, and though there's moisture in the corners of his eyes, prickling his nose, they're not from pain. Just from the intensity of it all. Louis's smile has him smiling tremulously back, and then he shifts and the hand inside him moves just a fraction and he's arching up, gasping, the shock of sensation arcing through him like lightning.

"Breathe," Louis orders, wincing slightly as Bradley's body clamps down on his hand. "Deep breaths." His voice calm, his smile back, determined to make Bradley want to do this again.

Bradley struggles to obey, and finally manages a single, long, shaky breath. The second one is easier, and he feels his muscle, locked down tight as a cramp, slowly begin to ease. The shock of the intrusion is still rippling in waves through his body, but as he adjusts and breathes and keeps watching Louis, the shock bleeds slowly but inexorably into pleasure. Deep, hurting pleasure, so intense he's not sure how to handle it.

"I'm going to take the cock ring off," Louis says softly, pushing in a little deeper, past that pressure point on his wrist. He wouldn't have put it on if he'd known they were going to do this. Would have given Bradley permission from the start. "And I want you to try and hold on for me but you can come whenever you need to."

"O-okay," Bradley answers, the word barely audible from his parched throat, past his dry lips. He gasps again, arching up all over again as the tight constriction around his cock and balls is released; the flood of sensation laps up against the feeling of Louis's hand in him, looping back and forth like feedback. He isn't coming, but he's close, and he clenches down around Louis's hand again, rhythmically, his body rocking just a little as he struggles to take it all in.

"So beautiful like this," Louis whispers, slowly curling his fingers into a fist which he gently rolls, letting the knuckles graze Bradley's prostate.

Bradley's body is finally relaxing, accepting Louis's hand. His breathing calms, and he blinks a few times, settling himself. When Louis's fingers graze his prostate, he moans, almost drugged with the endorphins and pleasure. He can feel the orgasm working its way through his spine, but he's flying so high it's almost secondary. "More," he whispers, needy. "Please, sir, do it again?"

Louis rolls his hand again, his breathing so shallow, his cock so hard, his whole body aching with arousal. And again. His eyes on Bradley's, on his cock thumping against his belly, precome pooling on his skin.

Bradley has never felt anything like this, never experienced anything even close, and he shivers, shudders, and comes, but it's almost incidental. The waves of feeling keep rolling through him in time with Louis's movements, his own spurting cock barely noticed under the avalanche of sensation. "Sir, sir," he gasps, hands white-knuckled. "God, oh my god, so much."

"I know," Louis murmurs, nodding. "Tell me when it's too much," he says, stretching out his fingers into more of a cone shape and slowly, so slowly moving his hand a little deeper. Attuned to every nuance of Bradley's expression, every clench and hesitation of his body. So very, very careful.

"It's, it's a lot, it's a lot," Bradley babbles, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, eyes almost all pupil. Everything is sharper now that he's come, deeper somehow. He spreads his knees even wider, unconsciously trying to make more room for Louis's hand, which is moving inside him, slow and sure and deliberate. It doesn't hurt, it just feels...so strange. Like he's being possessed in every particle of himself. "I, it's just, it's amazing."

"You're amazing," Louis says softly, sliding his other hand between Bradley's legs, fingers wrapping around his cock before it can go soft, intent on working him to a second orgasm. "And you're going to come for me again."

"I don't, I don't think..." Bradley's wide eyes seek out Louis's, shocked and stunned, unable to believe that he might get hard again, but feeling a slow stirring nonetheless. His heart is rabbiting in his chest, whole body tingling, and he bucks his hips up into that maddening, teasing hand.

Louis pulls back until he can form a fist again, rolling it to stroke against Bradley's prostate as his other hand strokes, rough and demanding, feeling Bradley's cock fill again under his touch.

"How, how is that even..." Bradley loses his voice again, head falling back as his arousal spikes through him again, sharp and sweet as pain. More than a little shaded with hurt, since he's so oversensitive that Louis's hand feels like sandpaper, his fist inside feels as huge as Bradley's own heart. "Oh god." His body is already convulsing again, riding the aftershocks of the last orgasm up into his second in just a few minutes.

Groaning softly as Bradley's body clenches tight and his come spatters his skin, Louis eases both movements until he finally stills. "Good boy," he murmurs, smiling, still incredulous that they managed to do this, so soon, without any real preparation.

Louis's words are like soothing magic to Bradley, who is shivering hard now. He opens his eyes again, sees Louis's smile, and manages a tremulous one in return. His whole body is starting to ache with reaction, the strain of this unfamiliar position, the stretch around Louis's hand. "You...you liked it too?"

Louis nods. "Very, very much." He smiles. "Now relax as much as you can and let me ease out," he says, taking his time in pulling free from Bradley's body.

It feels rather like Bradley's insides might come out with Louis's hand; now that he's not aroused, he sucks in a breath, then bears down as best he can to ease Louis's way as he pulls out. He feels stretched, empty, and shaky, but his blood is still fizzing with endorphins and once he feels the last fingertip slide free, he moans quietly.

"Give me a moment to clean up and then I'll get you back upstairs," Louis says, taking Bradley's hand in his and kissing the knuckles.

Bradley smiles wider, turns his hand, strokes a fingertip over Louis's bottom lip before letting him go. He's still floating, and so, so tired.

True to his word, it only takes Louis a moment to clean himself up and wipe a towel between Bradley's thighs, careful to get all the lube even though a bath will come later. He pulls on his own clothes, leaving them unzipped, unbuttoned, and helps Bradley out of the sling and into the bathrobe they brought down, slipping a pair of terrycloth slippers onto his feet and getting him upstairs. Once he has Bradley in bed, he calls for the dungeon master to take care of the room then drops his clothes on the floor and crawls into bed beside his boy, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his temple. "Sleep now," he whispers. "We can talk all you want about this later."

Bradley lets Louis move him about, lost in an obedient, blissful haze, until he's warm and clean and tucked into the bed, safe in Louis's arms. He blinks at him. "I dunno if I can sleep," he whispers back, and then he's interrupted by a massive yawn. The letdown is starting, and it's as fast and deep as a river. "Okay, maybe I can," he murmurs, eyes falling closed against his will.

[feedback welcome. comments screened]

Louis introduces Bradley James (bjames) to Citadel, Part Two

jennandanica@gmail.com — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 00:24:52 GMT

players only. takes place the day after Louis and Bradley sign their contract.

continued from here

Louis nods. "Of course." He quietly opens the door, careful to keep Bradley tucked in against him and moves them towards the chairs, taking a seat in one and pulling Bradley down into his lap. From here, they can see everything.

Safely cradled in Louis's lap, Bradley is secure enough to stare openly, unselfconsciously, taking everything in. The man's whole hand is disappearing into the raw-looking, stretched hole of the boy, who has his feet up in stirrups, spread wide open, buttocks and arse shiny with lube. The boy is beautiful, too, curly hair and long, pale arms and legs, though his face is wrenched with pain and pleasure.

Bradley can't stop looking at his cock. It's wrapped in black leather thongs, so tightly it looks like it might burst its bonds, stiff and red and resting on the boy's own belly. He's rocking, with the hand pushing into his body, and crying out, and Bradley gets a spike of lust and desire and arousal so hard it hits like a cramp, almost doubling him up, as he digs his fingers into Louis's arm for support.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Louis says softly, holding Bradley still closer, his mouth brushing against his ear as he speaks. "What the human body can take. What it finds pleasure in."

Bradley nods, nearly speechless. He locks his eyes on the way the big man's forearm is working its way into the trembling body of the boy, rhythmic, steady thrusts, gentle but inexorable. He also realizes he can hear the man talking to the boy, a soothing low rumble that gets to his spine and makes him squirm. "Unbelievable," he breathes back to Louis. "It won't, it doesn't hurt him? I mean, damage him. For real."

"No. Not like this," Louis says, shaking his head, one hand sliding up the inside of Bradley's thigh, the cage, hard rigid plastic under Bradley's trousers, making him smile. "Not when the dominant knows what they're doing, takes the time to make sure the submissive is ready, and when the submissive is willing to tell the dominant if anything doesn't feel right."

Louis's hand on him is so distracting that Bradley loses focus on the scene in front of him, squirming as if it'll give his cock some desperately-craved room and friction, turning a little so he can nuzzle Louis's neck where it meets his shoulder. "Someday," he whispers, nearly silently. "Someday, can we do that too?"

Louis nods, his cock throbbing roughly. Suddenly so hard he can barely breathe. "Yes," he whispers back. "It would be my pleasure to do that to you."

Bradley leans in even closer, feeling the way Louis's cock jumps and throbs under his thigh, and licks delicately at the corner of his mouth. "Good," he whispers back. "That's good. Can we...can we go somewhere a little more private now? After all this inspiration, I am getting a bit desperate for a practical demonstration."

Louis chuckles softly. "Even with this on?" he says, stroking firm fingers over and around the rigid plastic. "Knowing you won't be allowed to come, or even get hard."

"Even so," Bradley nods fervently. Anything will be better than this low, agonizing thrum of frustrated arousal that's turning him almost liquid with need. "It'll still be good. So good. You'll make it good, yeah?"

Louis simply smiles and stands, easing Bradley from his lap, their fingers entwined once again as he quietly leads him from the cell. "We'll go to my quarters," he says, guiding Bradley back through the dungeon. "But we're still having dinner in the dining room." The admonition meant as much for himself as for his boy.

"Okay," Bradley nods. That hum of arousal in his body amplifying with every step they take, hand in hand. He doesn't notice the looks they get as they pass back through the main area of the dungeon; he's completely focused on Louis, on the strong fingers holding his own, on breathless anticipation of what Louis might do to him once they're alone.

Louis opens up his quarters, pushing Bradley inside and locking up behind them. He turns on the lights and presses Bradley against the nearest wall, kissing him, aching with desire, any patience for the niceties like showing Bradley his suite long gone. "Want you out of these clothes," he whispers, biting at Bradley's mouth, his hands already making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pulling at his belt.

"Oh yeah," Bradley breathes back into Louis's kiss, pliant under his hands, turning with the pressure as Louis strips him quick and efficiently. He has flashing impressions of Louis's rooms; high windows with rich hangings, hallways branching off the main room, brightly colored cushions and dark, luxurious wood. But most of his focus is locked completely on Louis, and then he's bare, except for the cage, and pressing full-body against Louis's bigger, stronger frame. The slide of cloth against his bare skin is intoxicating, and he gets his arms up around Louis's neck, kissing him back with all the passion this whole tumultuous evening has given rise to.

A few more long minutes of kissing and Louis pulls back, breathing heavily. He nods towards the hall beside them. "Bedroom. Last door. I want you on your hands and knees, ass over the side of the bed."

Face flushing hotly, Bradley nods and then races down the hall, to the last door, and crawls onto the huge, high antique bed. It's gorgeous, like the rest of the things in Louis's quarters, elegant without being fussy and richly colored, but all he can focus on is curling himself up, on his knees and elbows, with just his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. His arse on his heels, naturally spread by the position, his face against the softness of the bedspread.

He can't get hard and he loves that. Right now he'd be mindless with needing to come, he knows it, and instead he's calmer, centered, swimming in subspace without the crazy pressure of orgasm. His cock jerks with every pulse of blood, straining to stand up, but it's a vague and familiar feeling now and he concentrates on the warm, liquid weight of arousal in his belly, the way it seems to loosen his joints, arch his back, spread his legs so much more easily.

"Look at you," Louis breathes, coming into the room. He slowly undresses, taking his time, his cock throbbing hard at the sight of Bradley's cheeks, still reddened and marked and starting to bruise from the earlier paddling session. His clothes set aside, he pulls a bottle of lube from the bedside table and slicks his fingers, pushing two quite forcefully into Bradley's ass.

Bradley's so in tune to Louis that he can hear him enter the room, hears the slide of his clothes coming off, the snap of the cap on the lube. He braces just a little and moans as Louis's fingers shove into him, rough and sudden, nearly pushing him forwards. He presses back, bearing down, wanting Louis inside him as fast as possible. The burn is delicious, and he pants out his breaths, struggling to relax and let him in.

Bradley's so incredibly tight and Louis's head almost swims with the heat, with the intensity of his own desire. He fucks Bradley a few times with those fingers, adding a third almost too quickly, his cock throbbing again when Bradley cries out. "Open up and let me in," he orders, curling all three fingers to stroke across Bradley's prostate.

"I'm trying, I'm trying," Bradley chants quietly, breathing hard. The bruised, aching muscles of his arse are protesting this new invasion, and he twists his hips, desperately attempting to force his sphincter to relax, ease, stop the burning clench that's trying to force Louis's fingers back out of his body. He makes himself breathe deeply, and bear down again, and finally he eases.

"Good boy." Louis smiles and strokes over that sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, waiting until Bradley's body opens even more before working a fourth finger in along the first three.

Maybe it's the angle, or the change in shape, but Bradley *always* struggles with four fingers. He arches up a little, breathing heavily through his nose, fighting to keep from crying out and pulling away from the intense burn, back so quickly after he'd loosened up. He tries to focus on the torturously pleasurable touches on his prostate, but without an erection, the burn is so much more intense that he can't help but give in to the cries trapped in his throat. He moans, whimpers, drops his head and lets the sounds out.

As achingly hard as he is, Louis refuses to be hurried. He scissors and twists and fucks those fingers into Bradley, every small cry, every moan, every whimper only serving to increase the pleasure and anticipation coursing through him. "This is mine," he says, fingers pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back in, deep, deep as they'll go. "Mine. Say it."

"Yours," Bradley cries, instantly obedient, absolutely sincere. "Only yours, just yours. Yours." He twists again on those spearing fingers, moaning, the pain translating itself slowly into mounting pleasure as his nerves get flooded with endorphins.

Louis nods. "Mine," he affirms, pleased, still working his fingers in and out of Bradley's body at the same time as he brings his other hand in sharply against his left cheek.

Shocked, Bradley jerks forward, out of his crouch, forward onto his hands. The slap on his already-bruised backside hurts so sharply that it drowns out the pleasure for a long moment, and his shout is genuinely pained, startled, and he twists to look at Louis with wide-blown eyes.

"Did I say you could break position?" Louis says, waiting and watching to see if Bradley will correct himself.

"N-no," Bradley says, though it's nearly a whimper. He gingerly eases back into his crouch, but he's tense, wary. He had no idea that the paddling earlier had made such an impact, that the bruises would hurt so much when struck again, and he's still waiting for the pleasure to come back. He knows it will. Things that he thought of as torturous, a mere month ago, are now the sources of his greatest pleasure.

"Good boy," Louis praises, pushing his fingers back into Bradley's ass and slapping the other cheek.

Bradley jumps again, huffs a short cry, but manages to stay in position this time. Even the act of controlling his impulse to get away is pushing him further down into subspace, and though Louis's slap hurts, it's more distant this time, more easily ignored. And he presses back against Louis's fingers, nearly purring as his body opens smoothly this time.

"That's it," Louis murmurs, slapping one cheek and then the other, his fingers working Bradley's ass, fucking his hole, stretching him again and again. "Open for me. Show me how much you want my cock inside you."

Bradley is *desperate* for that cock, wants it so badly he can taste it. Longer, smoother, hotter than fingers, so much more satisfying. He presses back harder, working the muscle in his hole, forcing it to relax and accept the intrusion. "Please," he begs brokenly. "Please, I want your cock. Please, sir, please?"

Louis smiles and draws back, slowly, easing his fingers from Bradley's body and reaching for a condom.

Bradley feels Louis's withdrawal and whimpers again, louder. "Please," he begs, voice breaking halfway through the word. "Please don't stop, please fuck me? Don't go..." in his pleasure-fogged mind, the loss of Louis's touch is an utter tragedy.

"I'm not," Louis promises, pressing close again, his thighs against the bottoms of Bradley's feet even as he puts on the condom. "I'm not going anywhere," he says, bending to press a single kiss to the base of Bradley's spine before he's lining up and pushing in, the movement slow but unrelenting.

The touch settles Bradley again, and he breathes easily, until the blunt, thick head of Louis's cock prods into his body. A steady push, just how he loves it; no stuttering or hesitation, just the coring, deep thrust that fills him up, soothes the itching ache inside him, satisfies him like nothing else. Without an erection, the pressure on his prostate is nearly overwhelming, painful, pleasurable, all at once, and he arches his back, breathing like he's running, spreading his knees more to ease Louis's entrance. "Oh yes oh god yes, yes, sir, thank you, thank you," he babbles without any filter.

Louis groans as he pushes all the way in, Bradley's words, the need, the desire behind them, going straight to his cock. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs, running his hands over Bradley's back and down his hips, over his ass and the sides of his legs. "Mon dieu." He pulls all the way out, watching Bradley's body gape for a moment, then back in, before it can close, eyes on his cock as it disappears into Bradley's hole.

The voice is like a warm blanket, wrapping around him, soft and comforting and home. Bradley sighs and leans back into the touch of Louis's hands, the pressure of the cock pushing into him...the delicious slow pressure of it and the way Louis leaves him empty for a long, aching moment before entering him again. "Oh god, yes," he sighs, blissful. His eyes falling closed as he rests his cheek on the bedcover, letting the sensation wash over and through him.

One hand braced on the small of Bradley's back, Louis leans back and watches as he pushes in deep, again and again, Bradley's body welcoming him, over and over, taking him in, stretching to make room for him. He swallows hard, arousal drying his throat, his breathing growing heavier and heavier wtih each thrust. So beautiful.

Louis has the most perfect rhythm, Bradley thinks dreamily. Deep and clean and pure, fucking into him as precisely as a knife, as cleanly. He arches up into each thrust, slipping deeper and deeper into the haze of pleasure that he's giving Louis this, unselfishly, no chance of orgasm. That Louis is using him for his own pleasure like this. It's perfect and it has him shivering with a deep and powerful surge of feeling, just as delicious as an orgasm would be.

"So good for me," Louis murmurs, lapsing into French after that, confident it's the tone not the words that matter. He closes his eyes for a long moment, intent on simply savouring the feel, on the utter perfection of sliding into that tight soft heat with no rush, no hurry, nothing to speed him towards coming, his orgasm on a slow burn, coiling at the base of his spine.

"Wish...wish you could do this forever," Bradley mumbles, voice hoarse, lips brushing against the bedspread as he speaks. His eyes are still closed, and he's just floating, drifting on the lazy, powerful, incredible feeling of it. The friction burns, the pressure of Louis's cock pressing over his prostate is agonizingly intense, but none of it can puncture the coccoon of pleasure and sensation he is in, safe and warm and loved.

Louis nods. "Oui. Forever," he says, both hands going to Bradley's hips after another dozen long slow thrusts, that coil tightening, making itself known. His cock throbbing deep inside Bradley.

Those strong hands holding his hips still have Bradley holding his breath, waiting for it. And then he feels it, the little stutter of Louis's hips, the quickening thrusts. It's close, he can tell, and he clenches down around the cock pushing into his body, tightening everything he can, squeezing Louis's cock to intensify the feelings as much as he can. He gasps as the hard head shoves hard into his prostate, and has one of those strange moments where it nearly feels like he's coming, the waves of feeling passing through him, his muscles contracting though he's never even been hard.

The clenching of Bradley's body makes him gasp and Louis's breath hitches hard again, riding that one moment, that one moment where he could pull back, maybe, if he tried a little harder, and then he's lost, gone, over the edge, his cock pulsing hotly again and again into the latex between them, his fingers tightening, laying down bruises they'll both see for days.

When Louis freezes, his fingers digging so hard into Bradley's hips that he knows there will be marks, Bradley lets out a huge breath, relaxing, easing down, his own body reacting nearly as if he's come himself. He reaches back with one hand, laces his fingers with Louis's where they're locked onto his body, craving the fingers-to-fingers touch and connection. He's startled to realize he's nearly crying again; though quiet and slow, this had had just as much intensity as the spanking he'd gotten days ago, and has had the same emotional upheaval following after.

"Good boy," Louis whispers, giving Bradley's fingers a squeeze. "Give me a minute and we'll get you under the covers," he says, easing slowly out and disposing of the condom, reaching for Bradley the moment it's in the bin.

"Tired of the condoms," Bradley mumbles, shifting as Louis moves, resenting even that short moment when they're apart. "You said, we can, testing, right?" His mind isn't working on all cylinders yet, but he crawls eagerly under the covers with Louis the moment they're untucked and held open for him. His cock is wet with precome inside the cage, a passing irritation that he'll deal with later; right now he wants to curl up against Louis, close his eyes, and bask in the feeling.

Louis nods, kissing the top of Bradley's head. "We can even do it here," he says, thinking he's never wanted anything more. "We have our own lab which processes the results." Smiling a little at how that must sound. "The ultimate in confidentiality."

"That's brilliant," Bradley chuckles tiredly, nuzzling in under Louis's chin, loving this feeling of being cherished. Feeling very young, small, fragile, too, in stark contrast with how roughly Louis treats him. He's not sure why one and the other are so closely related, but he's not going to worry about it now, just enjoy the feeling and let Louis hold him close. "Let's do that, can we? Then you can come inside me...it'll be so good..."

Louis's softening cock gives a throb and he nods again. "I'd like that very much," he whispers. "Being able to simply take you wherever I want... mark you like that..."

"Not have to pull out and go toss the johnny in the trash," Bradley continues, smiling against the skin of Louis's throat. "Keeping it in me, nice and hot, after you've gone."

Mon dieu. "Keep talking like that and we'll never make dinner," Louis teases, kissing wherever he can.

"Bollocks to dinner," Bradley says, only to be interrupted by his stomach growling, as if on cue. "Oh dear." He laughs, hiding his face in Louis's chest. "I need to clean up, though. I think I was leaking a bit at the end. That's...that's normal, right?" The reading he's done said that sometimes pressure on the prostate can express fluid even without an erection, but he's always more comfortable if Louis confirms these things.

"Completely normal," Louis reassures him with another kiss. "Do you need any help?"

"I wouldn't mind," Bradley confesses. As if he would ever turn down Louis touching him, especially as he's nearly boiling over with hours of repressed, tightly controlled arousal. Plus, "It can be awkward, trying to get in there. You'd almost think they made it so's you couldn't touch your cock." He makes a face.

Louis laughs. "Did you want to take a shower or simply to dry things?"

"Can you dry things without taking a shower?" Bradley glances at Louis curiously, slowly but surely coming back up from subspace, feeling tired, but more alert than before. "It'd probably be best to wash off, yeah, before dinner? So I look okay for dinner in public and all." His fine, straight hair turns into a mares-nest at the slightest provocation, so he knows he probably looks more than a little disheveled right now.

"You can use tissues, like you do when you use the washroom," Louis answers, "but we could probably both use another shower." Gently nudging Bradley in the direction of the bathroom. "Go ahead and get it started. I need to get some clean towels from the linen closet."

"Mmmkay." Bradley stretches, carefully, feeling all the aches and pains of the long day so far, but pleased with every one of them. He's earned them, after all. Moving gingerly, he swings himself out of the huge bed, catching himself with a hand when the drop is farther than he'd expected. "This is one ridiculously big bed," he tells Louis, smiling, heading for the washroom. "If I were any shorter, I'd need a stepladder to get in it!"

Louis laughs. "I'm sure I could find you a stepstool if you'd like," he says, pulling another set of clean towels from the linen closet in the hall.

"I said *if* I was shorter," Bradley answers, a little severely. "I might not be a giant like *some* people in the room, but I'm not some...some hobbit, needing ladders and stools for everything." He turns the water on, admiring the palatial washroom as he waits for it to run hot. Everything in Louis's life is gorgeous, rich, expensive, he reflects. Highest quality, greatest luxury. He is still curious about how such a man had ended up with a streak of loneliness that is quite clear to Bradley's eyes, but won't ask. Not yet.

The water nice and hot, he hops in, not waiting for Louis to arrive. Needing to be clean, get the sweat and other fluids off himself. The cage is awkward, and for the first time tonight, he wishes it were gone.

"I know. I was teasing you again," Louis says, setting the towels beside the shower and stepping in to join Bradley. "Unwisely perhaps?"

"Well. Maybe not unwisely," Bradley smiles a welcome at him, moving aside to give him room under the delightful hot spray. "One of the reasons I didn't go into professional football was my size, though. Can be a bit of a sore spot. I knew you were teasing me, though, and I didn't take it badly or anything. "

"I'm glad to hear it," Louis says, smiling and kissing Bradley on the mouth. "So. If you could have easily chosen between acting and football, would football have won out?"

Bradley's smile widens, delighted, at the kiss, a little domestic thing that means so much. "I don't really know," he says after a moment, soaping himself up efficiently. "I love what I do, love the work. And I know that footballers have short careers, and that I can still play for fun, with my mates. I get to have a bit of both worlds, this way. I think...I think I'd still have chosen acting. It'd have been a lot harder, though, making that call."

Louis nods. "I never thought of doing anything else," he says, considering his own career choice. "As soon as I was eighteen, I signed up for the training program - did my business degree alongside."

"The family business," Bradley nods, turning his face into the spray. "I'd absolutely no desire to be a barrister, myself, so I was saved *that* decision." He rinses, turns to Louis, curious. "You didn't have a gap year? Just go kicking about the world, trying different things? Must have been...different, having focus like that."

"No." Louis shakes his head, finally starting to wash up as well. "I knew I'd have lots of opportunity for travel, and to set my own hours, pursue my own interests..." He shrugs.

"Huh," Bradley responds, processing that. "You've a singular kind of mind, then, dedicated your whole life to one thing. I've only met artists like that before, and musicians...though I suppose you're an artist, at that," he grins at Louis. "Even if you paint in bruises and not in inks."

That gets a laugh. "I've never thought of it that way before," Louis says, kissing Bradley again. "Although I do adore a blank canvas," he murmurs, eyes twinkling.

"Glad I haven't any tattoos," Bradley murmurs back to him, also laughing, enjoying the kisses and the play. He presses close to Louis, only to be interrupted by the shift and tug of the cage. "Bloody thing," he curses, scratching at it with futile fingers as he pulls back.

"I thought you liked it?" Louis says, amused by the love-hate relationship Bradley seems to be having with the cage.

"I do, except when I don't," Bradley grumbles. "It's, sometimes I just want to feel you, you know? Skin on skin, and it gets in the way. I'm not naked, not really, with this thing on. It's just. Awkward. I like not getting hard till you say, though." He flushes at this confession. "I like that when I'm hard it's YOURS."

"I like that too," Louis says, cupping Bradley's face in his hand, thumb tracing the cheekbone. "Although I can't decide whether I'd rather have you squirm tonight because you can't get hard or because you're so hard it hurts and everyone knows."

Bradley turns his cheek into that caress like a cat, eyes fluttering closed. "Decision between a rock and a--pardon the pun--hard place," he chuckles, though it's a deep sound, raspy with need, and his tongue flicks out to moisten his lips. "Either way, I'm all yours at the end of the night. Body and soul, hard or not."

"Yes, you are," Louis nods, the words touching him deeply. "And I think for now I'll leave you in it," he says, leaning in to kiss Bradley again, tongue delving between his lips and slowly exploring his mouth.

Bradley nods, accepting Louis's decision, and takes his hand off the cage. No use tempting himself. And it'll be easier, he thinks, to deal with all the new things, with all his blood in his brain where it belongs. He tilts his head back to deepen the kiss, before he has to pull back to breathe. "Going to help me get it clean, then?" he smiles up at Louis, eyes sparkling.

"Of course," Louis says, simply soaping up the outside of the cage and letting the soap enter through the openings before pulling down the detachable shower wand. "This might tickle," he says with a grin, spraying the water into the cage.

"Aaaagh!" Bradley yelps, jumping as the water does, in fact, tickle AND sting his sensitive skin. He squirms hard, gritting his teeth as he tries to stay still, grabbing Louis's arm. "Oh that feels so WEIRD," he groans, since the water is the most direct stimulation his cock has gotten since the cage went on, and feels wonderful and terrible simultaneously.

Louis laughs, enjoying watching Bradley squirm. "Hold still," he orders. "I need to make sure we get every last bit of soap or you'll be uncomfortable for a very different reason later."

Following Louis's command, Bradley forces himself to stand still, though the jets of water still make him twitch. He swears he can hear his own teeth grinding. "It has to be clean now," he finally gasps, after endless moments. "There's no more soap, there can't be!"

"Yes," Louis says, eyes sparkling a little. "I do believe it's clean now." And really, if he took a little longer to torment his boy, spray his cock with water way past it being needed, who's to know? He turns off the water behind them, replaces the wand and wraps a towel around himself, reaching for the other to dry Bradley.

Bradley breathes a huge sigh of relief as the torment is ended, finally, and lets Louis wrap him up in the huge fluffy bath towel. More and more, he's enjoying these little ways that Louis cares for him; if a past boyfriend had tried to dry him like a child he'd have been shocked and maybe offended, but he stands happily, quietly, raising his arms and offering himself up for Louis's care and attention. It just seems to fit, with the way they are. The way he looks more and more to Louis for guidance when they're alone together like this, the quiet contentment it gives him to give over control to this man.

The rest of Bradley's body dried, Louis turns his attention to the cage and his cock. He dries the outside with the towel then reaches for a soft tissue, folding it until it's the right size to fit through the openings and dabs at his cock, turning the cage in his hand, gently, carefully, until he's certain Bradley's well dried. "There's baby powder and glaxal base under the sink."

Smiling a little, Bradley nods. "Okay. I think I've got this part down." Naked and unconcerned about it, he finds the powder and the cream, and applies it with practiced fingers. His cock feels much more comfortable, cleaned and dried, but he has to laugh a little at the powder everywhere.

"It looks like a powdered doughnut," he complains smilingly to Louis. "Not exactly sexy!"

Louis laughs. "Everything about you is sexy," he disagrees. "Including that," with a nod of his head at the cage.

"If you say so," Bradley answers dubiously, glancing down with an eyebrow raised. "At least it'll all shake off before I put on my black trousers. I hope!"

"There's a lint brush in the bottom drawer of my bedside table if it doesn't," Louis says, giving Bradley a kiss. "I'm going to get dressed. I think your clothes are still in the sitting room."

"Okay. Time to face the music?" He pulls a face, mostly in fun. Their time together here has settled him again, grounded him, and he's much less nervous about facing all of Louis's coworkers and the other people who are likely to be there at dinner. Also, he's hungry, and the prospect of food does quite a bit to distract him.

His clothes are in the sitting room, right where he'd left them, and he pulls them on without much ceremony, only checking to make sure his still-damp hair is falling smoothly and that his collar isn't wrecked. "Do I look all right?" he asks, a little anxious, still, about making a good impression.

"You look absolutely beautiful," Louis responds. "And everyone will think so." He picks up his wallet and keys, kisses Bradley again for good measure and pushes him out the door, locking up behind them.

Only resisting a little for show as Louis pushes him out the door, Bradley ends up trotting after Louis eagerly, looking around him as they go. They pass through the main hall again, and again he wants to pause and stare, but Louis keeps going into another big room--Bradley wonders how on earth they fit all these great rooms into one building--and this one is clearly set up for dining. He takes in the huge chandeliers casting faceted lights down on tables covered in fine linen and tableware, and filled with people, and crowds in a little closer to Louis's side.

After all, he wants people to know who he's with.

He puts his chin up proudly, just as if he were walking a red carpet, and makes sure he's walking tall at Louis's side. Fighting the urge to gawk at everything he sees.

"Bonsoir," Louis says, greeting the Maitre d' with a wide easy smile. "Table for two, please, preferably where we will be able to see most of the room."

"Of course, Monsieur Garneau," Jean-Claude nods, motioning with a sweep of his hand for Louis and his boy - he's heard the news as well - to follow him and leading them to what he knows to be the best table in the house. "Will you both be dining at the table?"

"Tonight, yes," Louis responds, watching Jean-Claude pull out Bradley's chair.

Bradley blinks at Louis's qualification of his statement, but then looks down the row of tables and sees two naked people on the floor, one man and one woman, licking tidbits out of a single woman's hands. He takes a deep breath, then smiles at the Maitre d', his best 'company' smile. "Merci, m'sieur," he says quietly, and takes the seat he has out for him.

He keeps his gaze locked on Louis, looking to him for cues, and also so he won't be caught staring like a raw country boy.

"Merci, Jean-Claude." Louis takes his own seat and moves it closer to Bradley's. "As long as you keep your voice low and don't point," he says with a smile, opening the menu in front of him, "you can ask me questions about anything you see."

"Okay," Bradley says, voice *very* low. He looks curiously past their tables to the others. There are more than a few people here, eating. In all states of dress and undress, some of them. Then he looks back at Louis, his stomach rumbling. "Are you going to order for both of us?" he whispers, curious about why there's only one menu.

"Yes, but I will ask if there's anything you're in the mood for," Louis says, perusing the specials. "There's a lovely Beef Wellington, Coq Au Vin, Cassoulet... or a simple steak, pasta... our chefs can make you whatever you'd like."

"What's cassoulet?" Bradley asks, turning again to watch the room. "How did the fellow know to just give you a menu? Couldn't I have been a mate of yours, in for dinner, and needed a menu, too?" He's curious how everyone seems to just *know* who he is and what he's doing there, when Louis hasn't talked to anyone since that Phillipe man, earlier.

"It's a stew or a casserole, with duck and different sausages and white beans. It's slow-cooked in a special pot and it's very good, and they know because I sent over our contract this morning and word has spread," Louis says with a smile, rather amused by how quickly the news has travelled through the castle.

Bradley laughs a little, shaking his head. "Worse gossips than on a show set," he informs Louis, "and that's saying something. One day and everyone knows who I am? And this is a huge place!" Since it's clearly no secret, he leans sideways and gives Louis a quick, soft kiss, thrilling that he can do it here with all these people around. "I think I'd like to try that cassoulet thing," he says, grinning as he pulls back.

Louis smiles at the kiss, so incredibly happy to have Bradley here with him. His boy. "And I'll have the Coq au Vin," he says, motioning to a server standing a little ways away, politely waiting for them to decide he's needed. "Would you like some wine as well?"

"Absolutely," Bradley nods. "It's kind of a celebration, right? We're here together for the first time. I think it deserves some wine." He smiles at Louis. He glances sideways at a naked boy, on a woman's lap, eating from her fingers. Beside them is a man with a girl on the floor in a dog collar and leash, and she has...a tail? "Does that girl have a tail?" he whispers to Louis.

Louis nods. "It's a plug," he whispers back.

"That's what 'puppy play' is," Bradley whispers back, realizing it, nodding. "That is pretty cool-looking. Floor looks hard, though." He is grateful that he's in his nice comfortable chair.

"Well, that's up to her master," Louis says, still very quietly, ordering their food and some wine, a bottle of champagne to start. "He could give her a small rug or a kneeling mat like the one we use at my place, but obviously this is part of their play or he doesn't want her to be entirely comfortable for whatever reason."

"Maybe she broke a rule," Bradley speculates, though the expression on her face is blissful. Still, so had the boy's when his dom's fist was six inches up his arse, so he's starting to realise that comfort doesn't necessarily equal pleasure, in this place. "My knees are very bony," he informs Louis. As if he hadn't noticed already. "That would leave bruises."

"I like bruises," Louis says, amused.

Bradley blinks at him, then rolls his eyes, grinning. "Right, I keep forgetting. Even on my knees, though? Knees aren't sexy! Well, I never thought they were, anyway."

"I think every last inch of you is sexy," Louis says, entirely serious. "And if I put bruises on your knees, I promise to kiss them better."

"Well." Bradley's momentarily tongue-tied, and blushing, and he ducks his head, smiling. "With that on offer, how could I possibly say no?" He glances around again, to regain his composure. "Does everyone who's a member do this? Sexy things, in public, I mean." He looks at Louis, taking his glass in hand as their champagne arrives, taking a sip. "My mates have all gone on about sex in public, but I was never that thrilled with the idea of people watching. Unless I knew them."

"God, no," Louis says, almost shocked at the idea. "There are those who never visit the clubs - who only interact online - and those who only play behind closed doors. And those who like to watch but never partake." He smiles at the thought. "No. The single most important thing we offer our members is confidentiality - to keep whatever they want kept secret, secret." He pauses, thinking on the rest of what Bradley said. "Do you like watching?"

"Sometimes," Bradley answers, after thinking about it, imagining it. "I think...I think it depends. Sometimes it'd be fun to have people watching, too. I think it depends, really, on who's watching, and where, and things like that. I like that, that everyone's comfortable doing what works for them, here. There have to be so many different things people like to do."

"There are," Louis nods. "And even when you think you've heard or seen it all, someone will still surprise you," he says with a smile, sitting back and patting his lap. "Come sit with me."

Bradley's jaw drops open, but before even a second has passed he's up and out of his chair, sliding into the spot Louis has made for him in his lap. It satisfies something inside him. In front of all these people, he's with Louis. Louis is his, as much as he's Louis's, and a little smile curls the corner of his mouth as he settles in comfortably.

"This is okay?" Louis says, wanting to make absolutely sure.

"Definitely," Bradley answers, nearly purring in smug contentment. Safe in Louis's lap he feels even more free to watch the crowd of people, still sipping his champagne. He has the best seat in the house and he knows it.

"And what about this?" Louis asks, kissing the side of Bradley's throat, lips brushed across the boy's skin.

"Mmmm. That feels lovely," Bradley hums, eyes sliding half-closed as Louis's warm lips brush the tender skin under his jaw.

So far, so good as they say. Louis slides a hand up the inside of Bradley's thigh and lets his teeth gaze the skin of Bradley's throat.

The sharp, cool edge of teeth brings Bradley's attention even further from their surroundings. With Louis's hand on his thigh like that, all his nerve endings light up, and he tips his head back, giving Louis more access. His eyes are nearly closed now and he can see light from the chandeliers sparkling through his eyelashes.

Louis pulls Bradley's shirt from his trousers, sliding his hand underneath, fingers spread over his stomach, skin warm beneath his palm. He bites a little harder, sucks at one spot in particular, the blood welling into a small bruise beneath the surface. Arousal starting to pool again, coiling lightly, both at what they're doing and at knowing they're being watched.

"Ohhhhh," Bradley moans, the warmth of Louis's hand and his body soaking into him. He can feel Louis hardening again under his thigh, shivers with delight that he's the one turning Louis on like this.

As he blinks once, he catches a flash of movement on the periphery. It's their server, setting their dishes discreetly aside, clearly leaving them alone as they are busy. Very polite, very inconspicuous, but it brings their location back to Bradley in a flash, and he sits bolt upright again, sucking in air in a gasp, his eyes wide. He's still cuddled into Louis, but he can suddenly remember all those eyes on them, and he flushes hotly, imagining how he must look to them.

"It's okay," Louis assures him, gently continuing his caresses. "I have you." Kissing Bradley's throat yet again. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks, unwilling to push too hard at Bradley's limits, even the soft ones, this early on, when they're still discovering each other.

Tense, but slowly being soothed back down by Louis's steadying touches, Bradley shakes his head, though his eyes flick nervously over the people surrounding them. "No, no, just...not any further, just now?" There's a genuine plea in his voice. He needs a little time to absorb this, adjust to it...adjust to the fact that he's enjoying it.

"Of course," Louis says with a smile, nodding at the plates with their silver covers in front of them. "Your dinner's here."

Relaxing immediately at Louis's voice and words, Bradley beams a smile at him, anxiety draining away. "That looks amazing," he says, from his comfortable seat on Louis's lap. "Do you...am I too heavy? Do you want me to move?" He doesn't want to move, not at all, but he can see how it might be awkward for Louis to eat, with Bradley perched between him and the table like this.

"No, I don't," Louis answers, although realistically, he'd have an easier time eating his dinner if Bradley did. "I want you to stay here."

Bradley looks from the table to Louis and back, and feels a little doubtful, but he's not going to argue, not when he's deliciously comfortable and exactly where he wants to be. "Okay," he says, "but if you need me to pass you a fork or something, I can totally do that." He leans in and breathes in the steam from his plate, eyes closing blissfully. "Oh this smells SO good. Can I just eat? Is there any kind of protocol, here?"

"No, not this time," Louis says, unable to stop smiling. "Go ahead and eat." His hand soft and warm on Bradley's back, feeling the curve of his spine through his shirt, aware of the eyes still on them. And it's strange. He's never realized how powerful this feeling was. Speculated, yes. Understood intellectually, of course. But the idea that this man, this boy, is his and that others can look all they want but they'll never have him, ever, unless Louis decides to share... He likes it very much.

Bradley beams back at Louis, enjoying every touch, every smile, and digs in to his meal, all the activities of the day catching up to him and his healthy appetite. It's delicious, melting in his mouth, even better than it smells, and though he is careful to stay out of Louis's way so *he* can eat his meal, Bradley is very quickly distracted from their surroundings and any anxiety by the good food, Louis's strong and calming hand on him, the strength of the big body he's leaning against. It makes him feel simultaneously very young and very loved, very protected, and he basks in the sensation.

They eat mostly in silence, both too hungry for words until their stomachs are satisfied. But once the delicious Coq au vin has taken the edge off his appetite, Louis sits back, watching Bradley eat, sipping at his wine. "It's very good, isn't it?"

Bradley is virtually *inhaling* his cassoulet, and is nearly finished when Louis speaks. Wiping his mouth with the fine linen napkin, he nods, and smiles. "Absolutely fantastic," he says. "Of course, I wasn't expecting anything else, not here. Everything is top notch. It's incredible, Louis. Like another world." Where he can sit comfortably on his boyfriend's lap, in full sight of a roomful of strangers, and there's nothing odd about it at all.

"Sir," Louis says, a gentle reminder. "And I'm glad you like it."

Bradley shakes his head, making a face at himself. "*Sir,*" he repeats, "god, you'd think I'd be able to remember one little thing."

"Maybe I'll have to come up with an incentive," Louis murmurs, taking another sip of wine, his other hand still caressing Bradley's back. "Or a deterrent. Depending on which would be most effective."

"I'll remember, I'll remember, sir," Bradley says hastily, though he can't help but grin at the nonchalant way Louis suggests these things, and he can't help but nearly melt and purr as that warm hand keeps stroking him. He drinks his own wine, enjoying the cold bite of the bubbles in the champagne, settling back into the curve of Louis's shoulder and looking around curiously. He can't help but notice that many people seem to be looking back.

"Why are they all looking at us?" he murmurs to Louis.

"Because you're beautiful, and because you're mine," Louis says, leaning in and nuzzling at Bradley's throat. "And because they're jealous," he adds, amused. "Does it bother you?"

"Nah, not really," Bradley admits, tilting his head again to show off his long, pale neck. Lowering his lashes, licking his lips and letting his mouth drop just a little open, as if he's struggling just a bit to get enough air. He's proud of his looks and the fact that Louis seems to enjoy them, enjoy showing him off like this, is staking such a blatant and unsubtle claim, only makes him want to preen a little more, put on a show. "I don't mind them looking, but I think at least half of them are jealous of *me,* he murmurs into Louis's ear.

"That could very well be," Louis says. "Maybe we should make them even more jealous," he suggests, turning his head to kiss Bradley.

Bradley kisses back with enthusiasm, turning in Louis's lap, getting his arms up and twining them around his shoulders. He knows he won't have Louis all to himself, he understands it and accepts it, but there's something deeply satisfying about staking his own claim like this. He only pulls back far enough to whisper his one hesitation to Louis. "Can we, can I leave all my clothes on? Sir?"

Louis smiles. "Of course," he whispers back, sliding his hands up under Bradley's shirt and over his warm smooth skin. "We can leave something to their imaginations," he adds with a grin.

That wicked little glint in Louis's eyes makes Bradley laugh, a full-throated chuckle that's not subtle at all, but he doesn't care. "Yes, let's do," he agrees, arching his back under Louis's touch, trusting the other man to keep him balanced right where he is, half-astride and half-across his thighs.

Louis tugs Bradley even closer, kissing a line down his chin to his throat to where his shirt parts then back up again. "Give me your hand," he whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth, determined to keep this within Bradley's comfort zone. This time.

Warm, aroused, almost liquid with desire, Bradley offers his hand to Louis, eyes falling closed as those kisses roam hot down his throat, over his collarbone, then up again. "Mmmmm." It's a happy sound, contented, even as he squirms as the cage makes itself felt, pressing his cock down from its attempt to stand erect.

"I meant give me your hand," Louis says with a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners as he presses Bradley's hand against his cock through his trousers, groaning softly as he pushes into his cupped palm.

"Oh!" Bradley breathes a quiet laugh, and starts to move his hand, carefully shaping it to Louis's cock. He teases it with his fingertips, a little grin curling one corner of his mouth; he can't get hard, after all, so a tease is only fair, as he gently, lightly feathers touches all up and down the shaft under his hand.

"Mm." Louis lets his head fall back a little, cock growing harder under Bradley's hand. "Next time I'll have you give me your mouth. You can even keep your clothes on," he teases, his hands on Bradley, never leaving him, stroking over his chest now, caressing his nipples, pinching them gently then a little harder.

Bradley chuckles a little at that. "Under the table, so you can chat with your friends at the same time..." he strokes his hand more firmly, twisting his wrist at the top. "I could be down there and no one would know. Except you and me."

Louis groans, his cock throbbing at the thought. "Or you could be in my lap, facing away from everyone, only your ass exposed, everyone watching my cock go into your hole again and again." Wondering if the reaction will be any different if Bradley doesn't have to watch those watching him.

Bradley turns his face into Louis's neck at just the thought, hiding, though he shivers with arousal only lightly tinged with fear. "Could I keep my eyes closed?" His hand tightens around Louis's cock, the slick fabric of his trousers providing only a little extra friction as he strokes.

Louis nods. "Oui." Swallowing hard as the pleasure builds. "Eyes closed, face buried against my neck," he whispers, letting his hands slip down the back of Bradley's trousers, fingers dipping into his cleft.

"I...I think I could do that," Bradley confesses, voice very small, arching instinctively back into the teasing touch of Louis's fingers. He aches, inside, empty and needy, not hard but still so aroused that he's lightheaded with it. "I could do it like that."

Louis's fingers slip lower, rubbing around the rim of Bradley's hole. "Then we will. Soon. But not tonight," he whispers, one hand pulled back, getting his belt unbuckled, his trousers open. Bradley's hand replaced on his bare cock.

Bradley is between Louis and the room, face still tucked into Louis's neck, and as his fingers touch the satin-hot skin of Louis's cock, he moans, low and breathless. It makes his mouth water, makes his heartbeat speed up, and he strokes it firmly, eagerly, his thumb swiping the head, collecting the bead of moisture there, using it to ease his way.

Groaning roughly, Louis pushes the tip of his finger into Bradley, his cock throbbing as Bradley's body clenches down tight on the digit. "Harder. Make me come, boy," he whispers, teeth grazing the side of Bradley's throat.

Bradley's body seizes tight around Louis's finger, contracting, milking it instinctively, and Bradley's hips rock subtly back into that sweet, aching pressure inside him. Louis's whisper spurs him on and he pulls out all the tricks he can, quick stripping pulls, flicking his thumb against the tender underside gently enough to just stimulate, not hurt. He's panting, too, forehead pressed into Louis's forehead, eyes closed, utterly focused on his task.

"Mon dieu, yes, that's it," Louis murmurs, pushing deeper, his breath hitching hard as he comes, hot strands of white painting Bradley's fingers.

As soon as he feels the long pulses start up Louis's cock, Bradley cups his hand over the head, using his fingers to stroke him through it, his palm to catch the streaks of come, some coating his fingers as well. He milks Louis through it, then without even thinking of it, brings his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning up the mess, licking and sucking his fingers and palm clean, eyes still closed the whole time. Body still rocking back on Louis's finger inside him, the dry burn of it a tease.

"Good boy," Louis murmurs, watching Bradley clean his come from his hand. "Make sure you get every last drop." His cock throbbing still, aftershocks rippling through him. "And then I think we'll have dessert back in my quarters."

Suddenly a little overwhelmed again by everything hitting all at once, Bradley doesn't raise his head, but he nods against Louis's shoulder, contented and pleased. "That sounds perfect," he murmurs, careful to lick every streak and drop from his hand. He reaches down, carefully tucks Louis back in, zips him back up. Setting him to rights.

Louis eases his finger from Bradley's body, holding him close, and kisses the top of his head. "Let me know when you're ready to move," he says softly, making sure Bradley knows he has the time he needs to adjust, that they're in no rush.

Bradley breathes deep as Louis's finger leaves him, and as his body slows back down to normal, settles back to baseline. He nods again at Louis's soft words, and finally, after a few long moments, he raises his head, blinking at the light after having had his eyes closed for so long.

"I probably look like I'm the one just had sex," he smiles at Louis. "You've not got a hair out of place, and I look like I've been through a hurricane." His hair is crazy, he can tell, his shirt untucked, his face flushed, lips swollen.

"Have I not mentioned my magical powers?" Louis teases, smoothing Bradley's hair and kissing those flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Louis introduces Bradley James (bjames) to Citadel, Part One

jennandanica@gmail.com — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 00:19:56 GMT

players only. takes place the day after Louis and Bradley sign their contract.

Bradley stands in front of the huge mirror in the washroom, finishing up his preparations. He's wearing the black trousers that were tailored for him for press events, and that fit him like a glove. His white cotton shirt is spotless, the top button of his collar open, showing a hint of chest, and the stark black and white makes his hair gleam under the lights like old gold and his eyes look very blue indeed. He smooths his eyebrows with a finger, checks to be sure there's nothing of lunch left in his teeth, touches the leather cuff on his left wrist, his symbol of ownership from Louis.

Louis had been right, he thinks. You'd have to look very closely to see the cock cage, even under these snug trousers. He takes a deep breath, one more look to be sure everything's in its place, and steps out of the room to see Louis.

His Sir is in what Bradley's starting to think of as 'Louis casual' dress; dark dress shirt and trousers, no tie, shoes polished perfectly. The executive at rest. Bradley shakes his head at himself, and smiles at Louis. "I think I'm ready, if you are," he offers.

"Most certainly," Louis answers, picking up his wallet and keys and leaning in to kiss Bradley the moment he's close enough. "You look good enough to eat," he whispers. "But luckily for you, we have dinner reservations." And he's far too... excited, actually, if he's honest, about showing off his boy to wait any longer.

"Lucky for me indeed," Bradley huffs a little, though he's smiling. "It took me too long to get all this hair going the same way for you to muss it before we even get to the club." The huge, posh club, which he remembers only vaguely. Full of strangers, all of whom work for Louis. He shakes off the little shiver of nerves and squares his shoulders, chin in the air. "We can't have them thinking you've picked up some vagabond off the street, anything like that."

"As if they'd ever think that, seeing you. You look like your young prince," Louis says, taking Bradley's hand and tugging him down the stairs.

"It's really just an act," Bradley assures him, following him down and out into the cool early evening, and to Louis's car. He puts a little swagger into his step on the way, settling his persona around him like a coat. Refusing to feel intimidated just because he's being introduced to an entirely new world tonight, one he's heard about but can't even truly imagine.

"Maybe. But I think most of them will see in you what I do, and anyone who doesn't..." Louis shrugs, his manner making it clear what he thinks of anyone who doesn't approve of his boy. He smiles and unlocks the car, opening the passenger door for Bradley.

"Always so gallant," Bradley murmurs with a smile, getting into the low little car with the ease of practice, now. He shifts, adjusts the cage for comfort, glad he's in the car where none can see. He's still not quite used to its rub and press against him, but the weight is soothing, somehow. Like it's Louis's hand on him.

"Haven't your other boyfriends ever done that?" Louis asks after he's closed the door and gone around to the driver's side. "Held the door open for you, I mean."

"Not really. But then, only two have had cars," Bradley points out. "Not much use for a car in London, after all, not in Uni anyway. We always took the Tube. And since I've started working I haven't dated much, like I told you." He glances sideways at Louis, smiling. "Isn't that a thing you do for girls, anyway?"

"Not the way I was raised," Louis says simply, pulling out of the parking spot. But he glances over, Bradley's smile making him smile. "Would you prefer I not do it?"

"No, it's lovely. I like it." It's a short drive, Bradley knows, and he keeps his eyes looking out the front, watching for the lights of the castle. So he has more time to prepare, he assures himself. "Will we go in the front door, this time, or will we be meeting your goons again for a trip up the back stairs?" He grins again.

Louis chuckles. "Front door this time," he says, reaching across the front seat to rest his hand on Bradley's leg for a moment, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You have full run of the castle now." Knowing that he must be nervous even if he seems to be handling it well.

Bradley smiles a little at Louis's touch. He doesn't *need* it, he tells himself, it's just...nice. Nice, when they're going to a place he's never been. It's like any other place. Like challenging a strange team on the football pitch, he tells himself. Very important to have your game face on. "Then we'll take the place by storm, through the *front* door," he teases at Louis. "Make all the people sit up and notice, yeah?"

"Mais oui, although it's the dining room where you'll really need to show your best poker face," Louis says, giving Bradley's leg another squeeze as they turn off the main road and onto the side one that winds it way up to the castle.

"I'm an actor, after all," Bradley says, proudly. "I've a marvelous poker face. Well. Most of the time." The castle looms large before them, but the windows have lights in them, and it's not as intimidating as it had seemed, being marched in under guard from the security men. He takes a quiet, deep breath to steady himself as Louis pulls up to the grand front entrance. "I'll follow your lead. Since you're the owner, and all." The OWNER of this ridiculously huge place. Bradley still can't quite wrap his mind round that.

"I'm not quite the owner," Louis says, getting out and handing the valet his keys before meeting Bradley on the other side of the car. "The castle belonged to my family a long time ago and now it's held in trust for the members and I simply run it." He smiles at the doormen as they open the huge double doors for them. "Bonsoir."

"Totally the owner," Bradley mumbles under his breath, following Louis in, firmly restraining himself from staring around himself like a country boy who'd never seen a building before. It *is* very grand, though, and he squares his shoulders, jerks his chin up, wishes for the millionth time that he'd been born just a little bit taller, at least. Louis heads straight for a desk that looks like a hotel concierge desk, all carved dark wood, and a gorgeous lady in a suit standing there with a smile; not wishing to be left behind, Bradley hurries to catch him up.

"It's gorgeous," he tells Louis sincerely. He can't wait to see more of it. Even the entryway is full of tapestries, lovely old furnishings, warm and welcoming and not at all cold.

"It is, isn't it?" Louis looks around. As much as he loves having the head office here, and cherishes the old castle, it's always refreshing to see it from someone else's perspective. "Corinne, this is Bradley James. He'll be my guest this evening. We already filed his papers with Marie. Bradley, this is Corinne Desmarais. She is one of our full-time concierges."

"Bonsoir, Monsieur," Corinne says, holding out her hand to Bradley. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Especially since she knows exactly who he is, current as she keeps with all the tabloid and entertainment news, not to mention that word has already traveled fast around the castle that Louis has signed a contract with the boy, filed this very morning.

Bradley gives her his best, brightest smile, takes her hand, and bows over it, lips just brushing the back, courtly as the real Prince Arthur might have been. "Bonsoir, Madame," he answers, then glances at Louis. "Louis, you didn't tell me that the staff was even more beautiful than Citadel itself." Shameless flattery, but she IS gorgeous, and deserves his best flirting.

Corinne blushes, head to toe, almost squirming where she stands. "Thank you, Monsieur. You are too kind." But he's also incredibly gorgeous and she can't wait to tell the rest of the staff she was the first to meet him.

Louis chuckles softly and nods approvingly, signing them both in, his hand on the small of Bradley's back as he turns them away and towards the central hall. "Sir, not Louis," he corrects but gently, casually, nodding at various members as they go.

"Oops." Bradley winces, shakes his head at himself. "Right. Right. Sorry, sir." Louis's hand is warm and steady on his back, though, and his voice hadn't been angry. As they walk further in, he can't help but look about him. The place only gets more beautiful, he thinks, the wide-open main hall wth its arched balustrades, the balcony around the edge of the room with its arched frames.

Then his attention is arrested by a woman, wearing leather and very little of that, walking casually across the floor with a naked girl hurrying behind her, leashed and gagged, on hands and knees. The girl's back is crisscrossed with red marks, long and thin, and he can't help but pause and stare after them. She's really naked. He can see *everything.*

"One of our members and her girl," Louis supplies, watching Bradley watch the women cross the hall.

"That is...something," Bradley says, his voice a little stifled as he works hard to keep it even. Louis had told him, of course, but hearing and seeing are very different things. "They, uh, make a fine looking couple."

Louis chuckles softly, nodding. "Yes, they do. Here," he pulls Bradley to one side and into a very, very large room, which spans the full length and half the height of the castle, ladders spaced all along its second storey to reach the older collections. "This is the library. The central one."

More books than he's ever seen in one place widen Bradley's eyes as he gazes around. Here again, there are people, though it's very quiet, as befits a library. Some naked, some not, some reading, some drinking tea. His eyes skip over them quickly; he has no desire to be caught staring, no matter what's going on. The room has a calming air of quiet and contentment, though, and his shoulders relax just a bit. "It's lovely," he says sincerely.

"You can come in here anytime you'd like, and there's a librarian to assist," Louis says, nodding to a circular desk in the very centre of the room, "if you need help finding anything. Besides a huge collection of mainstream books, mostly first editions, we have every text ever written on or about kink in any language." Aware they're already drawing quite a bit of attention, though it's quiet, mostly surreptitious, people watching them out of the corners of their eyes.

He'd nearly forgotten about his own request for research materials, but Louis's words bring it all back, and he nods, more eager now. "And can we actually take books home, like a public library? Or do they need to be kept here?"

"It depends on whether they're part of the regular collection or the special one. Special collection books are irreplaceable or out-of-print and very hard to find, so they stay here." Louis smiles at Bradley, enjoying his enthusiasm and leans in, kissing him softly on the mouth, knowing he's giving their audience exactly what they want but he could care less.

Bradley hums delightedly into the kiss, going up on his toes to press a little closer, before they break apart. He smiles, eyes only for Louis at this moment. "I trust they'll tell me which is which, and point me to the not-so-special ones if I ask?" Bradley doesn't read in public, but he very much wants to find out more about what might be in some of those books.

"Of course." Louis smiles, wondering again at Bradley's discomfort with reading, but it's not a subject he's going to broach now. "What would you like to see next? Maybe one of our guest suites? It might be better to see one of those before we tour the dungeon."

"Yeah, that sounds great," Bradley says eagerly. Then pauses, and laughs. "Oh my god. I was joking about being dragged off to the dungeon, the day I met you...and you have an actual real live dungeon here. Oh my god!"

"You don't know how tempted I was," Louis teases, guiding Bradley out of the library.

"And you even kept a straight face," Bradley marvels, following closely, looking all around with open curiosity now. Everywhere, he can see beautiful things. People in strange clothes or no clothes at all. He just watches, taking it in, storing memories for later examination and reflection.

"I was too busy watching you and trying to convince myself I shouldn't ask you out," Louis says, taking Bradley's hand and leading him upstairs to the second floor, his eyes widening a little when they reach the landing. For there is Pierre, with one of their trainees bent over the balcony, naked, Pierre's cock going in and out of his ass in full view of anyone passing by. And although he'd known Bradley would see such things here, he was hoping to choose the moment in which he first saw it. "Bonsoir, Pierre."

Bradley, following Louis and peers over the balcony, hears Louis's voice and looks to see who he's talking to. And then his jaw drops and he freezes, mid-step, before forcing himself to snap out of it. He reminds himself fiercely that he's an actor, dammit, he can act even if he's surprised, and forces his face into something like calm.

The big man is fucking a smaller man, both completely naked, in the hall. He can't tear his eyes away from it. He presses close to Louis, his eyes wide, even though he manages to stay silent.

"Bonsoir, Louis," Pierre nods, continuing to fuck the boy beneath him, his strokes slow and deep. "Bonsoir," he nods to the man behind Bradley. "Comment ca va?" the last directed to Louis again.

"Ca va bien. Tres bien," Louis allows with a smile, knowing that if everyone else knows, Pierre certainly does. "Bradley, this is Pierre. He's one of our trainers and has been with Citadel for a very long time. Pierre, this is Bradley James. My boy." Completely ignoring the trainee.

Bradley waves, trying to keep his eyes on one safe place...but there *is* no safe place to look and so he settles on the broad-muscled shoulders of Pierre. "Bonjour, Pierre," he says, trying for polite. Then he straightens himself up. He's not going to have a little real-life porn turn him into some scared, whingey little boy, though his stomach is tight with nerves. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Pierre smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well." He nods at Louis. "Felicitations."

"Merci," Louis says, continuing in French, "It's his first time here so we're taking a tour of the castle before dinner."

Pierre nods, again, sliding his hand to the back of the boy's neck and keeping him pinned against the balcony. "I hope you enjoy the tour," he says to Bradley, a little slower, his voice slightly halting, not entirely sure of his English.

"He will," Louis says, squeezing Bradley's hand a little tighter and leading him away from the scene, down the hall and into the first wing of rooms.

As soon as they're alone, Bradley stops, and lets his breath out with a "whuff" sound, leaning back against the wall, bringing Louis to a halt as well through their linked hands.

"That was...something," he says, letting his shock show through a little, now that no one can witness it but Louis. "That guy, the one he was fucking...he didn't make a single sound the whole time." For whatever reason, that's what's standing out to him right now.

"He was probably under orders not to," Louis explains. "It's a common command."

"Oh." Bradley thinks that over, not even realizing how hard he's holding on to Louis's hand. "What if I'd talked to him? Could he have said anything, or would that man--Philippe?--have said something? Or should I just not talk to anybody until I check with you first?"

"If you talked to him, he would have stayed silent and Pierre would have explained, or I would have," Louis says, leaning in and kissing Bradley softly on the mouth. "You can talk to anyone you want. If they're not allowed to talk to you, someone will explain, or if it's not a good time, you'll get the idea."

Bradley kisses back, letting the now-familiar taste of Louis's mouth settle him. "Okay. Okay, that's good," he says, relieved, when Louis pulls back. "I wouldn't want to get anyone in trouble. Okay. Onward?"

Louis nods and they continue down the hall. "You have to remember. All the people here? They know their rules. They know what's expected of them. If they do anything that gets them in trouble, it won't be your fault."

"Right, I'm the sad newbie," Bradley laughs a little, still holding tight, following Louis closely. The art on the walls is gorgeous, much of it is erotic, and he wishes he could have eyes all 'round his head so he could actually see everything. But he's more curious about where Louis is taking him next, so he doesn't pause or even slow, even at the most interesting things.

"You're not sad, but yes, new," Louis says with a smile, stopping at the last door on the right. "Like everyone else here was once." He unlocks the door using his master key and turns on the light just inside. "Go ahead," he says, motioning for Bradley to enter. "You'll find it looks much like any other hotel room. Well, not your hotel room," he adds with a soft laugh.

Bradley trots in through the door, wildly curious, and stops dead in his tracks. "No, not like my hotel room at all," he answers a little absently, staring around himself. "This is crazy!" It's done in an entirely opulent style, dark wood and velvet, satin, everything burgundy and gold and very ornate. It couldn't be more unlike Louis's flat if it had tried, and he turns a slow circle on the spot. The bed is huge, fully twice again as big as anything Bradley's ever seen, and yes, there are discreet little gilded hooks and snaps here and there on the heavy frame. He can barely see an enormous washroom, and what might be a parlour or a huge closet, through a few adjoining doors.

"Are they all different? 'Cause this one looks like it's meant for parties of five or more!"

"Slightly different, yes, but most of them are quite large. Our member prefer a lot of floor space and in most cases, we divided one suite of rooms into two from the old days when the people who lived here each had their own quarters." Louis smiles. "Do you like it?"

"It's fantastic. Like something out of a film, or something." He wanders over to the bed, tests it. Nice and firm. Grins sideways at Louis. "The bed at least is miles past what I sleep on in my hotel. I think that thing is giving me arthritis. Is it okay if I look in the cupboards?" There are large, stylish wooden wardrobes, cupboards, and shelving units around the room, all in keeping with the decor. All with closed doors.

"Of course," Louis says with a small smile, deciding not to warn Bradley. Especially since it's only the two of them here.

The first cabinet Bradley opens is full of towels, dressing gowns, bathrobes, and other bedding and niceties. He runs an appreciative hand over the plush terrycloth, shuts the cabinet, and moves on. The next, a big armoire set against the wall by the bed -- does NOT have towels in, as he realizes immediately upon opening it.

Shelf upon shelf of toys, laid in black velvet cases. Shining silver rings, and clamps. The dark gleam of black leather, whips with many tails. Cuffs, and chains, and plugs, and things he can't even name, they're all there, clearly new and pristine and shining with a certain malevolent promise. He doesn't even realize his jaw has dropped open until he turns, incredulous, to Louis. "This is all...for people to use? Here?" His voice squeaks a little on the last word.

Louis nods, clearly enjoying Bradley's reaction. "And if what they want is not there, they can call the front desk and have it sent up."

"D'you know, I'm not even going to ask what might not be here," Bradley reflects, carefully looking over the trays, not touching anything, but lingering over the plugs and rings; those at least are a familiar shape. "Oh my." Opening another drawer has shown an entire collection of paddles, rods, slappers, and even a leather strap. His body clenches reflexively, remembering the sting and heat of Louis's hand on him, slapping his arse and cock until he was mindless with it. He wonders how different it might be with one of these.

"Do you see something you'd like to try?" Louis asks, moving to stand behind Bradley, body pressing close.

"Wow, I..." Bradley's hand hovers over the drawer, Louis's big, hot body a distraction, and the selection so wide he doesn't even know where to look first. He's drawn to the thick, heavy-looking leather strap, but also to the sleek wood of a slim paddle with a solid handle. "Yes. Yeah. These are amazing. I'd no idea there were so many kinds." He glances over his shoulder. "Which one do YOU like?"

Louis smiles. "I like all of them," he says, truthfully, "but if I were going to bend you over the bed and use something on you right now, I'd choose the paddle," reaching out to run his fingers over the sleek shiny wood.

Bradley's hand follows Louis's, reaching out, touching. The wood is satiny-soft, beautiful. He can't help but imagine what it would feel like. His face flushes red, and his cock, quiet so far in its cage, surges and struggles to lift. He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, the frustrated ache of it making him restless and sparking a little of the calm of subspace, all at the same time. He doesn't know what to say, so he stays silent. Doesn't know if Louis really wishes to interrupt their tour, or if it was hypothetical.

Smile widening, Bradley shifting against him, Louis contemplates the paddle for a moment longer then says, "Pull your trousers down, not all the way, just under your cheeks, and bend over the bed."

If his cheeks were pink before, now they're fire-red, and Bradley freezes for a long instant. Wrapping his mind around the fact that this is really going to happen. He breathes deep and nods, and with hands that only tremble a little, unbuckles his belt. Without thinking too hard about it, he walks to the bed, and shoves his boxer-briefs and trousers down, just as Louis had ordered him to, until they're around his upper thighs, leaving his arse bare. A little shakily, he bends over the bed, his caged cock pushing futilely at the hard plastic, yearning for friction and hardness, thighs trapped close together by the clothing. Every sense hyper-aware, Bradley turns his face to the side so he can watch Louis behind him, through half-lidded eyes.

Paddle in hand, Louis moves behind Bradley. He runs his hand over his boy's cheeks, unable to resist touching him, that bare skin, fingers dipping into that cleft, stroking over that hole that belongs now only to him.

That gentle touch is so welcome, so desired, that a low hum of pleasure is the only sound that Bradley can make. He's gone from nervous, curious explorer of a new space, back into the now-familiar role of Louis's boy, his plaything. He hadn't even realized how much he'd needed this, a taste of the special bond the two of them have amid all this strangeness, but he feels his tension leech away, his bones go liquid, and he arches his back, pressing his ass, his hole, back against that delicious pressure.

Louis lingers there for a moment, his cock responding quickly to the sight and Bradley's obvious eagerness. He slides his fingers lower, caressing the back of his balls and that soft sensitive skin in between.

The featherlight touch is very nearly a tickle, and Bradley shifts his hips with a murmur, frustrated that he can't spread his legs wider, that they're bound together by the waist of his trousers, that his cock is caged, and all of it feeding into the deep, purring satisfaction he gets every time he is like this with Louis. He squirms again, rubbing against the teasing fingers, eyes slitted nearly-closed with pleasure.

Mon dieu. Bradley's so incredibly responsive and that responsiveness translates into a surge of arousal so strong it almost takes Louis's breath away. But finally, almost reluctantly, he draws back, rubbing the wood of the paddle over Bradley's ass.

The contrast between the cool, silk-smoothness of the wooden paddle and the heat of Louis's hand has Bradley shivering, nerve endings really waking up and paying attention. Arousal, less sharp without an erection but deeper, heavier somehow, settles in his belly, his hips, his pelvis, making everything feel loose and warm. He wishes for Louis's fingers and cock but wants the paddle nearly as much, and the tension of waiting makes him squirm yet again against the bed.

"I want you to count out each strike for me," Louis says, the order meant to counter how deeply Bradley might sink, knowing he still wants to show him around the castle. "Do you understand?"

Bradley blinks. This is new. "Mm-hmm," he struggles to say, tongue already thick and heavy and uncooperative in his mouth. He fights back towards clarity, blinking again, fighting the tide that wants to drag him down. If he's expected to count, he can't just let himself drift. It sparks a little coal of discontent inside him, but he knows he must do as he's told.

"Bien." Louis brings the paddle in evenly against both cheeks, at about half strength, knowing the hard wood, the unforgivingness of it, will already be a shock to Bradley's system.

Bradley's used to the sharp sting and smack of Louis's hand, and his hand only; this is a deeper hurt, more thuddy even with the light weight of the paddle. No give to it at all, and Bradley jumps, hissing a curse through his teeth as the impact jolts all the way up to his shoulders. "One," he gasps out, remembering only at the last instant. His eyes are wide open now, his hands in fists by his shoulders, bracing himself. Tense, again, where before he'd been loose and relaxed.

"Tres bien," Louis murmurs, watching those blue eyes go wide, and brings the paddle in again, a little harder this time, his own cock already starting to ache.

The second strike is harder than the first, and the "two!" is jarred roughly out of Bradley, as his toes curl inside his shoes and he breaks out in a light sweat. Already the skin on his arse is burning-warm, tender, and deeper down he can feel the ache. Like it's stoking the fire of his arousal.

The third and fourth are delivered at much the same strength, Louis giving Bradley a moment to announce the count in between, but the fifth is harder still, his cock throbbing, jerking violently with each blow.

"NNNNGH," Bradley shouts through his teeth, not a scream, *not,* even though his eyes are shut tight and his knuckles hurt from how hard he's holding the bedcover to keep himself from scrambling up the bed, away from the sudden shock of the fifth, hardest blow. "F-f-five," he gets out after sucking in air, then panting it back out, trying so hard to stay solid, here, where Louis sees so many others just like him. Where he does this as his JOB. Bradley grits his teeth harder, determined not to break, to show Louis he can take it.

"Good boy." Paddle dropping to his side, Louis asks, "Can you take another five like that? I want an honest answer, not bravado."

Bravado?? Bradley bristles all over at the very word. Does Louis think he's a child, some kind of weakling? What must he be thinking, to ask such a thing of him? "I can, of course I can," he grits out, tight-jawed. Of course he can. It's a paddle, is all. Of course he can.

Fine. If Bradley's determined to learn the hard way, Louis is willing to let him try. He brings in the paddle again, and yet again, giving Bradley only enough time between blows to get his counts out, pausing again, a little longer, after the eighth.

Bradley is remembering that he should be careful what he wishes for. He's glad of the count, it gives him something to focus on besides the screaming, blazing pain in his backside as Louis lays into him, hard and fast, and it hurts so much worse than his hand ever had. Bradley's breath is coming in great heaving gasps by the time Louis pauses, and his count has faded to a thin small sound that he forces out by will alone. But he's stubborn, and even in the pause, even with the pain, he lies still and shaking, eyes closed, lower lip bleeding where he'd bit it on stroke number seven.

"Two more," Louis says finally, delivering both in rapid succession, one right on top of the other, Bradley's backside a bright fire engine red by the time he finishes.

"Ten," Bradley breathes, as the last stroke falls on already-burning skin, and this time he *does* jump, he scrambles a little, slides off the smooth bedspread, and lands on his knees on the floor, shivering, sweating, his knees feeling like they've gone to water. He doesn't look at Louis, hangs his head, tries to pull himself back together after the jarring *thump* to the floor. Unlike usually after he's spanked or hurt, he feels all hot inside, almost angry, like it was too much for his system and he doesn't know what to do with it. He did it, though, he thinks, he took them all, didn't cry out.

"The next time you do that, I'll safeword for you," Louis tells him softly, setting the paddle aside and reaching down to help him to his feet. "It's not a contest and the goal isn't to see how much you can take."

The words are startling, almost as shocking as the pain, and even as Bradley staggers against Louis, all off-balance and shaky, he looks up at him, eyes wide. "S-safeword *for* me?" he asks, voice hoarse with the screams he held in and thin with confusion. "It, you can do that? What do you mean, it wasn't. I can take it. Just as much as any of *them.*" He jerks his chin mutinously, indicating the whole rest of the club in one gesture. Ignoring the fact that he's leaning on Louis, wrapped around him, letting him take most of Bradley's unsteady weight.

"I have no doubt you can," Louis says a little sadly, surprised by Bradley's reaction. "But do you really think that's what I want? Do you think if I was looking for a carbon copy of the boys I train each day I would have waited this long to take a boy of my own? And do you really believe that's what I teach them? To ignore their own well-being in order to prove themselves?"

Blinking rapidly, Bradley absorbs this. He...hadn't really thought of it that way. He leans his cheek against Louis's chest, some of the bluster falling away from him. The idea that he might have just done something rather stupid starts to tickle at him. "It's just a little paddle," he says into Louis's shirt, voice small. "I saw what was in those drawers, things WAY stronger than just that paddle...I just didn't want to, and there were only *ten,* that's not many at all, and it just. I didn't want." He trails off, not sure how to tell Louis that here, of all places, he didn't want Louis to think less of him. Think him weak, at all.

Louis's chest tightens and he kisses the top of Bradley's head, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. "I love you," he whispers, knowing that it might be too soon to give voice to it, but it's not something he wants to keep to himself any longer and it's important to what he's saying. "And I don't want you ever thinking you have anything to prove to me. I know how strong you are, and how brave you are, but this is a journey we're taking together and I need you to trust me."

There's something Louis is saying, about trust and a journey, relationshippy things, but Bradley's mind had sort of whited out after hearing the part with "I love you" in. He looks up, searching Louis's face with wide eyes, struck totally silent for a moment. Louis's handsome face is sincere in every line, his mouth in a little smile, and there's something heartbreaking and honest and open in his eyes that Bradley's rarely seen before. In anyone.

"I do trust you," he answers, finally. "I do. I can be a prat, I know, and an arse and that probably won't change, but do you think I'd even bother trying if I didn't care so awfully much about what you think of me? I'm stupid over you. Completely gone. And you...you love me. You said it, I heard you." Suddenly a smile is breaking out on his face, wide and delighted and shining.

"Yes, I did, and I meant it," Louis nods, matching that smile. He kisses Bradley hard on the mouth then a little more softly. "And I know you trust me to do things to you, but you also have to trust me to be happy with us and with you and not think I'm comparing you to anyone else." As if he really could.

Bradley kisses back, happily, before pulling back just a little. "That's...I will try, I'll do my damndest. But I'm just a regular bloke, even if a bit prettier than the average--more than a bit, maybe--and you can't expect me not to try to live up to--" he waves a hand around. "This. A little. In my own way, anyway. It's like learning French, I'm living here now and I've got to learn the language, even if I'm piss-poor at it."

"Fair enough," Louis says, nodding and kissing Bradley again. "I will try to keep that in mind, but even with French, you're not suddenly going to be completely fluent. You need to learn the basics, the building blocks, before you can go further."

That makes Bradley laugh for real. "Fluent? I can barely introduce myself properly and I've been trying to learn for a YEAR now," he leans up and kisses Louis, hard, trying to show through action what he can't put into words. How stunned and amazed he is that Louis has told him these things, that he's still standing here, holding Bradley, kissing him. "Hopefully I'll be a bit more quick with this," he murmurs against Louis's mouth. "But I'll try to be patient, with the building blocks."

"That's all I can ask," Louis says with another soft smile. "Now, if you want to pull your trousers up, or take them off," he teases, shrugging lightly, "whatever's more comfortable, we can finish our tour."

Now Bradley can hear that tease in Louis's voice, and though his cheeks redden a little again at just the thought, he laughs from his cozy spot in Louis's arms. "Pull them up," he decides, "definitely. After all, my arse is quite red just now. Better not show it off to everyone and his brother or I'll blush through the floor."

"We wouldn't want that," Louis says, suddenly rather reluctant to move again, what with his beautiful warm boy pressed against him, "but I'm going to pull them up. I think it might hurt a little less that way."

"Okay," Bradley says, strangely eager to let Louis re-dress him. He's the one caused the pain, still simmering through him, every time he moves, like a terrible sunburn on his arse. He can be the one to pull up Bradley's trousers, still snugged around his upper thighs. He's glad he'd worn the tight black ones, or they'd be at his ankles by now, and he'd be clinging to Louis for support, as well as comfort.

With the cage on, it's even easier to tug Bradley's trousers up over his ass and tuck his cock and the cage back into them. The trousers fit well though, the boxer briefs even moreso, and there's no avoiding both fabrics brushing over Bradley's still warmed and reddened skin.

A little gasp and flinch are Bradley's only reaction, though he does take the chance to sway against Louis, wanting the closeness after their strange little almost-fight just now. He's reassured by Louis's obvious erection, by the tender way he tucks him in and tidies him up, by every move he makes. By the time Louis is finished with his belt he's feeling much better, put back together in more ways than one, and he smiles his gratitude up at Louis.

"Ready for the rest of the tour?" Louis asks, still holding Bradley close, unwilling to let him go until the moment they make the decision to actually move on.

Bradley takes a deep breath and blows it out, resolving to let go of his lingering...whatever it is, with the breath. He nods firmly. "Yeah. Ready." He looks around the opulent room once more, taking in all the details, the cupboard full of mysterious things he doesn't understand yet, and then steps out of Louis arms. "Ready to go."

"Good." Louis locks up behind them and texts the front desk that the room needs to be seen to. He links his fingers with Bradley's and shows him the office, which he's already seen, and one of the lounges before opening up one of the training rooms. It's empty at this time of night but that seems like a good thing given Bradley's penchant for comparison.

"Wow," Bradley breathes, staring around as Louis leads him into a huge room that's nearly empty, but for the padding on the walls and the occasional chain, wooden beam, or strange structure scattered about. It's got no one using it just now, and Bradley feels free to break away from Louis and go exploring, rambling around the room and examining everything. He stops at the first complex wooden...thing...he reaches, and looks back at Louis curiously. "What's this?"

"It's a bondage table," Louis explains, watching Bradley make his way around the room. "Or an incline table. Once you have the submissive bound to it you can rotate it so that they're upright, inclined, or, if you've really secured them well, completely upside-down."

Bradley tilts his head, trying to imagine it. Bound and totally unable to move, tilted back and forth so Louis could reach whatever part of him he liked. It's a titillating thought, but he hasn't really been tied up yet, so he can''t imagine it in detail.

"And this one?" Moving on to a plain frame with straps hanging down. There's what almost looks like a swing in it, and though he imagines it's for sitting in, he can't imagine someone *swinging* for fun here. Especially not with all those chains hanging about.

"That's a sling," Louis says, providing the name, his head tilting slightly as he ponders the best explanation. "You can sit or lie down in it, like a hammock, and the dominant can take advantage of the fact that you're now immobile but moveable. They're very popular for fucking and for fisting, and for anything where you want the submissive to be comfortable but unable to move on their own."

"I like that one," Bradley decides, reaching out curiously to touch the smooth softness of the seat. A visible shudder runs through him as he imagines what Louis could do to him in something like this, and he shifts, cock trying to get hard *again* inside the confining cage. He scowls downwards. You'd think it might've gotten the memo by now, but no, his stubborn body is still following lifelong urges.

"We'll sneak in here another night," Louis promises, eyes sparkling. "Comfortable?"

"Not really," Bradley confesses honestly. He squirms his hips again. "Of all the places in the world to have a cock cage, this has to be the worst. Well, here and your flat, I guess. I swear my dick's rubbing itself raw in there just trying to get hard." He glances at Louis hopefully. "Does it ever get...less? In the cage, I mean."

"Truthfully?" Louis sighs, smiling, pretty sure Bradley doesn't want to hear what he's going to tell him. "Yes, eventually, but only if you were wearing it most of the time. With us doing a day here and there like we are," he shakes his head, "probably not."

Bradley pouts. "Well. I...suppose that's probably to be expected," he sighs, shifts again, moves back to Louis's side so he can look round the room with a better perspective. "It's a bit cold, isn't it? Empty? It feels like a storage unit almost." He tries to picture it full of people and can't quite manage it. "Why would you use this room instead of your own?"

Louis gives Bradley a look, before reminding himself that no, the boy wouldn't know. "Because they're trainees. Our job is to get them ready to deal with clients, or to perform a certain way for their dominants, not... to have them become attached to us. This makes that easier." He pauses. Strangely enough, it's a question no one's ever asked him before. "Besides, my quarters are private. I wouldn't want to make them open to just anyone."

The more Bradley sees of this place, the more he realizes that it really *is* different, what he has with Louis. Instead of making him feel like one of many, it's serving unexpectedly to highlight the ways in which he's *not.* A satisfied, catlike little smile curls the corners of his mouth, and he slips his hand into one of Louis's pockets, pressing close. "So the ones who come to your rooms, they're special," he states the obvious. "You realize of course that I'll gloat terribly when you're doing unspeakable things to me in your bed, later."

"But of course," Louis says, smiling, leaning in to kiss Bradley. "And you are special. You're the only one who's ever been my boy." Although he's quickly realizing that Bradley doesn't have the frame of reference to understand what a momentous thing that is. "Are we done in here? Would you like to see the ballroom and the dungeon?"

"Oh yes," Bradley nods, licking his lips to get the last trace of the kiss, to be sure he hasn't missed any. "So, this training room, it's rather like a gym. For practicing and training and such. And the dungeon, it's different because it's...the real event? The real thing? Not practice anymore?" He's wrapping his mind round it, and that makes sense to him.

Louis nods. "Yes. Our members don't have use of the training rooms. They use a room like the one we were in earlier or they use the dungeon or one of the specialty rooms."

"Huh, okay," Bradley nods again, and smiles up at Louis. "So if you were going to sneak me in so we can try that sling, it'd be *doubly* naughty, right? Though..." he cocks his head, "...is it really breaking the rules if you are the one who made them in the first place?" He steps away a little, ready for Louis to lead him on. He's wildly curious about this dungeon.

"No, it's not," Louis declares firmly, but with a small smile crooking the corner of his mouth. He takes Bradley's hand again and leads him downstairs, showing him first the ballroom before they make their way down one more level to the dungeon.

With just a few steps, they go from the airy, bright, gorgeously appointed ballroom into what can only be described as a scene out of some medieval film, in Bradley's mind. He crowds close to Louis, wide-eyed, at the first scream filtering through the air, and as they descend the stone steps into the main hallway with cells on each side, his jaw drops open a little. The barred cells, the flickering light of the lamps on the walls, the people in the cells, some naked, some in chains, some clearly in ecstasies of pain or pleasure or both...he finds himself blinking rapidly, not sure where to look, the solid warmth of Louis's big body and steady presence the only thing keeping him from turning tail and scampering back up those stairs.

"And here I thought you'd be used to some of this," Louis says, although he's thrilled to have any excuse to wrap his arm around Bradley and tug him even closer. "Filming at the castle of yours and down in the caves."

"They call 'cut' and everything goes back to normal and catering brings down bottled Evian," Bradley protests, unable to take his eyes off the window across from them. A huge man is doing something to another man who seems to be in some sort of hammock-ish thing, and Bradley can't see properly, but there are *sounds* coming out of that room, and he's not sure if he wants to know. He's pretty sure he does, but can't bring himself to walk closer. Louis's arm is very welcome and steadies him, though, and he tilts his head. "What's going on in there?"

"Fisting." Louis motions towards the room with his free hand. "Would you like to see? They wouldn't be doing it where people can watch if they didn't want us to," he adds, wanting to make sure Bradley knows it's okay to be curious here.

"I've seen fisting before, seen it on video," Bradley amends quickly. "But never quite...that's kind of..." He can hear high, thin sounds of distress from the room, raw and needy, and there's the hammock--sling, he thinks he remembers Louis calling it--and between Louis's arm around him and that SOUND that the boy in the room is making, the way the cool air prickles along his arms, his body is fighting so strongly to get hard that his hips, his belly ache with the sharp frustration of it.

"Come on," Louis murmurs, leading Bradley closer to the room. "See that wooden shingle," he says, pointing to the rectangular piece of wooden hanging down from its hinges beside the door. "That means they want an audience. It's an open invitation. If it was flipped up, it would indicate they didn't want anyone else in there." He nods towards the inside of the room, indicating the chairs to the side closest to the door. "See?"

Eyes wide, Bradley looks in through the window. He can still mostly see the back of the large man, the rhythmic movement of his shoulder and the rock of his hips, which match precisely with the gasps and moans of the half-visible boy in the sling. He looks naked. Bradley shivers, tucks himself closer to Louis. "Can we...can we go in? Just for a minute?"

continued here

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]

Meta Post: Contract between Louis and Bradley James (bjames)

jennandanica@gmail.com — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 20:47:11 GMT

players only. as referred to in this log.

CONTRACT OF SUBMISSION BETWEEN LOUIS GARNEAU AND BRADLEY JAMES

This agreement is hereby made and entered into this day of November, 2010, by and between Louis Garneau (Sir) and Bradley James (boy).

This agreement is for a period of 90 days, at which point it will be reviewed and renewed or renegotiated as the parties wish.

Most importantly the purpose of this contract is to provide a framework for the D/s relationship between Louis and Bradley.

The following are the boy's rights:

1. He has the right to expect Sir to cherish and safeguard his well-being during the period of this contract.

2. He has the right to privacy. His family, friends and coworkers will not be made aware of this contract or its contents unless he chooses to make them aware.

3. He has the right to use his safeword (Arsenal) to stop any activity which he feels will cause him harm, jeopardize his safety or cause him emotional distress.

4. He has the right to use his safeword (Arsenal) to refuse to participate in any activity which he feels will cause him harm, jeopardize his safety or cause him emotional distress.

5. He has the right to use his slow word (yellow) to indicate an activity is getting too intense and that Sir should change or decrease the stimulation.

6. He has the right to expect Sir to respect his hard limits as set out on the attached checklist.

7. He has the right to expect that, in recognition of his career obligations, nothing will be required of him that will in any way damage or hinder, nor interfere with the performance of said obligations.

8. He has the right to ask for an adjustment or modification to the terms of this contract at any time and will be given the opportunity to express his needs and desires on a regular basis.

The boy agrees to the following terms of contract provided they do not conflict with any of the rights set out above:

9. He will address Louis as "Sir" when in private with him or on Citadel property. He will refer to Louis as "my Sir" when speaking to anyone on Citadel property.

10. He will keep the various areas of his body free and clear of hair as desired by Sir. This may include being scheduled for regular waxing sessions.

11. He will ensure that he has lube and condoms on hand at all times for Sir. At such point as they reach a mutual agreement and have been tested, he will dispense with the need for condoms between them.

12. He will provide sexual services to Sir upon demand and without question.

13. He will ask permission (via call, text or email) of Sir prior to masturbating or reaching an orgasm.

14. He will wear a cock cage or other chastity device during mutually agreed upon times and will not remove said device unless it is an emergency, an agreed upon exception, or he has been given permission. In all cases, he will keep a record of lock numbers and the date and reason they were broken.

15. He will accept Sir's training with gratitude and will always do his best to follow instructions and to learn how to serve Sir's every need and desire.

16. He will inform Sir if he breaks/violates any of these rules/terms.

17. He will submit to discipline as required by Sir without question as long as that discipline does not violate his hard limits.

18. He will maintain a submissive demeanour with Sir on Citadel property or with those in the lifestyle but that requirement will be loosened when he is on his own with Sir, in private, and they are not in scene. Mixed social settings will allow for a more relaxed demeanour as well but a submissive demeanour may be shown if not noticeable to anyone present and the boy wishes to show it.

19. He will keep in mind that, above all, it is the duty of the boy to please. That he is, first and foremost, to service the physical/emotional needs of Sir, provide amusement, act as a sexual toy/plaything, provide physical comfort, companionship, and offer obedience, honesty and loyalty.

20. He will accept that Sir has sex with others, knowing that Sir will not allow those interactions to distract him from his boy or cause his boy any emotional distress.

21. He will also accept that Sir may choose to share him sexually with others on an occasional basis.

22. He will not initiate sexual contact with others without permission and will not touch himself sexually without permission.

23. He will be provided with a symbol of ownership upon the signing of this contract and wear it at all times.

24. He will accept that Sir has the right to ask for an adjustment or modification to the terms of this contract at any time.

25. All physical evidence of this contract will be kept in total secrecy, under lock and key, except where both parties agree. Any violation of this clause shall be cause to terminate this contract, should the injured party wish it.

Having read and understood this contract, both parties sign this contract freely and without reservation.

Accepted, understood and agreed to this day of November, 2010.

By:

__________________________
Louis Garneau

__________________________
Bradley James

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): Weekend, Part III

jennandanica@gmail.com — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 19:58:57 GMT

players only. takes place the day after Louis confesses about his work and Citadel.

continued from here

This time the shiver goes all the way down Bradley's spine, and he nods mutely, sending silent thoughts to the shop girl to hurry the bloody hell *up,* how long can it take to weigh mushrooms? Finally, Louis has his bags and they're out of the line, walking back towards the flat. For the first time since they left it, Bradley leads the way, the simmering heat inside him demanding that he ignore everything else and just get home, right now.

Louis follows, hanging back only enough that he can watch Bradley's ass moving in his jeans, his hunger for the boy growing to a fevered pitch by the time they reach his place. He shoves everything under one arm, fishes his keys from his back pocket and unlocks the door, nudging Bradley inside the moment it's opened.

Bradley takes Louis at his word; the moment he's through the door, as he heads up the stairs, he's shedding clothing. T-shirt off over his head, toeing out of his shoes, and when he gets to the flat itself, he's already undone his flies and only has to step out of his jeans to be naked. Without any further motion he sinks down to his knees, his captive cock jerking and jumping inside its cage, straining to fill; that strange, achey heat pooling between his hipbones as he fails to get hard. He looks up at Louis, already flushed and needy.

"Nicely done," Louis says, nodding his approval as he joins Bradley in the loft. "Give me a minute," he tells him, taking the time to put away his purchases, the meat in the fridge and the vegetables in the pantry. He then opens the other box, the bigger one, pulling the kneeling pad out. "You can crawl down to the couch," he tells him, grabbing a condom and a bottle of lube. "Make a show of it for me."

Bradley can't see what Louis is doing but he can hear him moving around, can hear how his voice has dropped, the husky warm note in it signalling his arousal. He slips down to all fours, stretching luxuriously--he'd done "Cats" in drama school, this is second nature--and prowls towards the couch. None of the awkwardness of his first time crawling for Louis, now that he's more comfortable with what's between them. He lets his shoulders roll as he moves his arms, arches his back and lets his hips sway, glad again that he's not hard, that he can focus on making himself beautiful. For Louis.

Mon dieu, the boy is perfect. And Louis is already aching for him, his jeans far too tight, zipper pressing against his cock. "Gorgeous," he says. "Magnifique." His smile brilliant as he sits down on the couch in front of Bradley and rolls out the kneeling pad. "This will save your knees," he says, motioning for Bradley to move in front of him but not giving any other orders. He wants to see what he does, without instruction.

Bradley sees the pad with relief, and moves on to it, settling in on his knees. Louis is silent, watching him, so he leans in between his spread thighs, rests his cheek against one of them, rubbing a bit, and waits. He's sure he'll get instructions soon.

Louis smiles, chuckling softly. "As wonderful as this is," he says, taking a moment to run his fingers through Bradley's hair, "when I tell you to kneel for me, or when you're waiting for me to start a scene, I want you to spread your knees, put your shoulders back, your head up but your eyes down, and clasp your wrists behind your back."

A little mortified at getting it wrong, Bradley nods. "Sorry, sorry," he says, quickly getting back into position, just as Louis had described. His acting once more coming in handy, as he balances easily, legs spread wide, shoulders perfectly straight and tall.

"Don't be. You're learning," Louis says firmly. "That's what this is all about, and that's perfect. Very good."

Bradley grins at that, proud of himself for having gotten it, his momentary embarrassment erased by Louis's words. "Yes, sir," he answers, the words slipping out easily, naturally.

"And now you have permission to look at me," Louis says, finding that he wants to see Bradley's eyes, doesn't want him looking at the floor for long. "But make sure the rest of your posture doesn't change."

Moving nothing but his eyes, Bradley looks up, and meets Louis's smiling gaze. He can't help but smile back.

"You're so beautiful," Louis says, shifting forward a little and placing his hands on either side of Bradley's neck, his thumbs gently stroking under his jaw.

Eyes half-closing with pleasure, Bradley hums, and leans into the touch greedily. Louis is the beautiful one, he knows, but doesn't say; he's slipping into quietness, going pliant and willing and soft just from being on his knees for Louis, just like this.

Louis smiles and runs his hands down, over Bradley's shoulders and down his arms to his chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples now.

It's another side-effect of the cage, Bradley's finding; his whole skin is sensitized, even bits that were generally not erogenous zones before, like his hands, his shoulders, his nipples. He keeps his posture straight with a struggle, though he desperately wants to press in closer and beg for more, harder, now.

"I'm inspecting you," Louis says, pinching those nubs between his fingers. "And you're doing very well holding still for me." For now.

Inspection. Evaluation. Bradley's proud of his looks and how fit he keeps his body, and knowing Louis is looking at him critically, judging him, straightens his spine even more. He shudders at the pinch, but keeps himself straight and steady. He can't help but wonder exactly how far this inspection might go. What Louis is looking for. His cock, red and thick and forced down into its curve, pulses hard again, and he bites his lip at the feel of it.

Hands sliding lower, Louis caresses Bradley's stomach, admiring the toned muscle underneath, teases his fingertips along Bradley's groin then switches to the inside of his thighs, stroking, completely ignoring his cock for the moment.

Bradley's body hair has always been light, both in color and in quantity, so he can feel every inch of Louis's fingertips as his belly and thighs are stroked, petted, and looked at. He concentrates on his breathing, trying to keep it steady even though it keeps wanting to speed up, and catch in his throat, and other such things. Louis hits a ticklish spot and he tenses all over, muscles standing out in relief...but he doesn't move.

"Very good," Louis praises, recognizing the effort it takes for Bradley not to move. He picks up the cage in his hand, hefting the weight in his cupped palm. "Very, very good," he murmurs, letting his nail graze the head of his cock through the front opening.

Bradley sucks in a huge breath of air, almost a gasp, as he feels that sting against the head of his cock. It's been caged up, shielded from any friction for long enough now that even this mild touch sends a bolt of fire up his nervous system; his hands, still behind his back, clench into fists and his hips tremble a little with the desire to flinch away. Without being hard, the spongy head is tender and vulnerable and it hurts quite a lot.

"Hm." Louis smiles, his eyes going darker. "I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy making use of these vents and slots," he says, fingernail pushing into the slit again, knowing it's still raw from earlier.

Bradley hisses his pain this time, he can't stop himself. And his hips jerk, uncontrollably, an instinctive flinch as Louis rakes his nail across the same spot as he'd abused earlier. Louis's words are even more arousing and he moans softly, mind whirling, wondering. He'd thought his cock untouchable in its cage, and *that* was clearly very wrong. He can only imagine what tortures Louis might inflict, even through the slits in the clear, hard plastic.

Louis's cock throbs at the hiss of breath, the instinctive flinch, at the pain flickering across Bradley's beautiful face. He presses a little harder then draws back, intent on continuing his inspection. "Turn around," he orders.

Trying without success to get his breathing back under control, Bradley nods submissively and turns on his knees, his back now to Louis. He can't see him, now, and a little thread of tension runs through him as he stares blindly out into the room.

"Good boy." Louis puts his hands back on Bradley, starting with his neck again and working his way downward, hands caressing arms, wrists, fingers, and hips, lingering over each area, appreciating muscle and skin tone and just the beauty, the utter beauty, of Bradley's body. "Mine," he says softly, trying the word out, liking the way it sounds in his mouth, on his tongue. "Mine."

It's almost a massage, and it sends Bradley into a daze of pleasure. He relaxes, eases, feeling warm and caring hands on him, the way he seems to get every inch, pet him everywhere. And when Louis speaks, he nods. "Yours," he answers back without a second of hesitation. "All yours."

Louis stops breathing for a moment then, his cock so hard he would swear he could cut glass. "Bend over," he orders. "Keep your hands behind your back and press your forehead to the floor."

That rasp in Louis's voice...it does things to Bradley's insides. So, so carefully, he bends at the waist, having to catch himself more than once. It's like a very difficult ab crunch, getting himself down into the position Louis has demanded, but he does it, his forehead against the floor, his arse pushed back to keep himself balanced over his widespread knees.

"There we go. Well done," Louis says, his breath slowly returning, the ache in his cock only intensifying as it does. He runs his hand over Bradley's cheeks, between them, edge of his hand sliding into his cleft, rubbing over his hole.

Bradley's hole is tender, red, swollen. He can feel it as Louis rubs the edge of his hand there, not gently, the friction generating even more heat. The muscle flutters, clenching and unclenching greedily against the pressure. Bradley dizzily wonders if he's passing inspection, what Louis is seeing, feeling, looking at now. If he can sense how desperately aroused Bradley is, even without an erection.

Louis rubs one finger over Bradley's hole, circles the rim gently then a little more firmly, pressing just in, completely dry, before pulling back and spreading Bradley's cheeks with both hands, thumbs pulling him open. Wider and wider.

The finger feels good, soothing, but then it's pushing inside and the burn has Bradley whimpering. Then there's more, so much more and firm, relentless pressure forcing him open, and he screams against the floor as the already-swollen muscle is forced to spread. He would be coming right now if he could, the idea that Louis will be looking inside him, evaluating if he's ready for his cock and worthy of it, the pain and pleasure of it completely overwhelming him. Impossibly he spreads his legs wider, trying to ease the ache even as it rolls through him as an even higher spike of arousal.

It's almost enough to make Louis come in his jeans. His eyes close and he breathes through it, opening them again a moment later, his thumbs still holding Bradley open, inspecting the soft pink skin inside, knowing how hot and perfect, like tight velvet heat, it'll feel around his cock. "Did you know that they make speculums for men?" he asks, smiling, a hint of tease, dark and wicked, to the expression. "You slide them in, crank them open, and the muscle can't resist."

Bradley can barely get enough air to breathe; his hole is clenching over and over, straining against Louis's thumbs to close, to ease the agony of being stretched so wide and so suddenly. The idea of the speculum nearly stops his breath altogether. "How far, you could, I couldn't stop it, all open," he babbles, shivering hard. "Open for you."

"Completely open for me," Louis says, nodding, slowly letting Bradley's hole close, before reaching back for the lube and slicking his fingers, two pushed into Bradley with no warning.

After the rough stretch of Louis's thumbs, the fingers and lube are actually almost soothing, and Bradley hums his pleasure low in his throat, pressing his hips up and back, eager for more.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Louis murmurs, slowly fucking Bradley with his fingers, in and out and in and out, the rhythm easy, almost leisurely, a third finger added as the boy's body relaxes even further, opening for him.

"So good," Bradley answers, voice low and raw. "So good, sir, yes. God, yes." The third finger adds some burn, and now those long fingers are brushing past his prostate as they fuck in and out, sending a quiver of pleasure through him. He jumps a little, squirms at the ache of the cage, then settles back into the rhythm Louis is setting.

"And you've been a good boy," Louis says, pouring a little more lube on his fingers and stretching Bradley to make room for a fourth.

"I've tried...OH." Bradley's hips twist back again, resisting and accepting all at once as that fourth finger works into him. It feels huge, unexpected, like his hipbones need to spread to make room, and the burning pain is back, dragging him higher and higher on the endorphin rush. Louis's fingers are long, thick, strong, and four together is nearly the size of his cock and much less smooth. "Too much," he gasps, rolling his forehead against the floor, grounding himself.

"No, it's not," Louis says firmly, slowly pushing them deeper, past any resistance. "Trust me and breathe. You can take it."

The wide parts hurt and the narrower parts just ache, but both keep Bradley rocking on the edge of crying out as Louis presses them into him, stretching him relentlessly. He obeys Louis and breathes, deeply, in and out, and once he's steadier, bears down on the fingers breaching him. Helping them slide inside.

"Yes." Mon dieu. "That's it. Good boy," Louis breathes, fucking Bradley slowly, like he would with his cock if he had any patience.

Buoyed up by the praise, the warmth in Louis's voice, Bradley breathes a little easier now that those fingers are in, are moving, are fucking him. Louis's hand rocks his whole body with its movements, and he's slipping deeper and deeper into subspace, the rhythm soothing him even as it makes him truly desperate to get hard, to feel that pleasure and to come. "So much," he moans, probably not making any sense to Louis. "Need it. Hurts."

"I know," Louis says, although he's mostly guessing, filling in the blanks with what he knows of Bradley, the way he craves the pain, being used, pleasing him like this. "You're such a good boy - and as I told you before, good boys deserve rewards." His fingers sliding from Bradley's body. "Stay there."

Bradley relaxes as the fingers go away, breathing deeply, steadying himself yet again. He's folded over his own knees now, forehead still to the floor, back bent. His shoulders are starting to ache and he tries to roll them, keeping his arms behind his back, but there's no real way to get any movement from this position, and his fingers are starting to go numb. Still, it's surprisingly comfortable, so he just keeps concentrating on breathing. In and out.

Louis stands, tugging his t-shirt over his head and dropping his jeans to his feet. He balls the clothes up and tosses them onto the end of the bed, wanting them out of the way, then sits down again, his cock jutting up from between his thighs, wet at its tip. He rolls a condom, slicks it with lube, his eyes on Bradley the whole time, on that slick red swollen hole, begging to be used again. "You can turn around," he says. "I want you up here, on my lap, riding me."

Slowly, with relief, Bradley unclasps his hands and gets them under him, pressing his body up off the floor. He sways for a moment as blood rushes out of his head, but regains his equilibrium quickly, and turns to face Louis.

His jaw drops as he sees him. Naked, erect, sitting there looking like an exquisite work of art. It makes Bradley's mouth water, and he hurries to obey, scrambling up onto his hands and knees, then to his feet and onto the couch, moving to straddle Louis's thighs. He reaches out and strokes Louis's shoulders, his chest, hungry to touch after so long being still. Words are beyond him, but he makes a low, needy sound as his bottom settles on Louis's thighs.

"I know," Louis tells him again, pulling him closer and reaching behind Bradley to get his cock against his hole, the head sinking in instantly, sliding past that loosened muscle. And Louis hisses in a breath, stilling for a moment, his other hand on Bradley's hip, holding him right where he is. "Don't move," growled softly, and then moment passes, that intense, too-much, right on the edge pleasure easing, segueing into something that can be savoured, prolonged. "Good god," he murmurs, both hands on Bradley's hips now, pushing him down onto him, sinking deep and still deeper.

"Fuck, fuck, shit," Bradley chants to himself under his breath, his head falling back, hands clenching on Louis's arms and fingers digging into muscle. Louis's cock is sinking into him smooth and hard and long, pressing deep, up into his body, filling him completely. His caged cock is snugged up close against Louis's belly, the hard ridge of the ring pressing into his pubic bone, hard and insistent, and strangely stimulating. He rocks back and forth, rubbing himself on Louis's cock, the angle and position allowing him far more movement than he's been used to with Louis so far. It's delicious, the feeling of being taken and possessed so completely.

"That's it," Louis breathes, completely taken with watching Bradley, his pale perfect skin, those cheekbones, those lips, the way his eyes shutter half-closed, eyelashes fluttering. He slides his hands down to Bradley's cheeks, spreading them again, pushing still deeper, until he's in right to the hilt. "Ride me."

Bradley is happy, eager, delighted to obey. Powerful thigh muscles work easily to lift him up off Louis's cock, and then he lowers himself back down, slowly, taking Louis in as smoothly as if he was made to hold him here. He twists his hips a little, getting more of that incredible friction, and once he can feel himself pressed close to Louis's lap, he does it again. And again. Speeding up only slowly, clenching his ass muscles as tightly as he can around the flaring head of Louis's cock, forcing his hole to squeeze tightly around that most sensitive part of him.

Louis groans, licking his lips, determined to hold on, to make this last as long as possible, his fingers stroking, brushing over the skin where their bodies are meeting again and again, feeling his cock go into Bradley.

Without the distraction of his own race to orgasm, Bradley luxuriates in this. He sighs out a dreamy breath, rocking himself up and down, riding Louis slowly at first but reaching the point where it's not enough. He needs more, wants more for Louis. He suddenly drops himself down, lets gravity take him, the rod inside him slamming up into him and making him cry out as his back arches and his hips work in little circles, aching.

Mon dieu. Louis's cock throbs violently at that. He'd wanted to make this last, savour and prolong it, but here, now, with Bradley fucking his hole on him like that, without any promise of coming, he knows he's not going to last. "Harder," he demands. "Let me see you hurt."

Bradley strains, fighting to somehow make the fuck even harder, harsher, more furious than it already is. His muscles standing in relief, he lifts himself up and starts pumping his hips hard and fast in short little strokes, the head of Louis's cock forcing itself through the tight ring of his hole every time he sinks down, burning the already-tender skin there like sandpaper. Tears stand in his eyes as he bites his lip hard, trying to hold in sobs of pain, the same pain that's lighting every pleasure center in his body like a Christmas tree. He can't get hard, he can't even come close, and the frustration and the pain and the pleasure blend together in his body and mind, forcing the tears to spill, his hands to cling even harder to Louis's body as a sob breaks free, hoarse and loud, as Louis's cock shoves inside him again and again.

Pleasure building with each drop, piling higher and higher and higher still, Louis is done for the moment that sob breaks free. He braces his feet, slams upward, coring the boy open again and comes, hard, spurting pulse after heated pulse inside him.

Feeling Louis come inside him, knowing that *he did this,* he's the one who gave this to Louis, is a pleasure so intense it's almost like an orgasm of its own. The moment Bradley feels Louis shudder, then jerk up into him with those fast, short, brutal strokes as he's coming, Bradley cries out again but this time in ecstasy. He goes passive, still, lets Louis pump into him until he's done, braced above him on knees and arms, cradled in the crook of Louis's body. As the tremors slow and stop, he leans closer, resting his cheek against Louis's, breathing hard and rough, trying to pull himself together enough to move. He can't do it.

"Shh. Stay right here," Louis whispers, wrapping his arms around Bradley and pulling him in close, kissing him softly on the mouth. "Don't move."

Shuddering with relief, Bradley does as he's told, and all the tension remaining in his body just drains away. He slumps forward into Louis's hold, his cock cage trapped between their bodies, still stimulating him without any hope of completion. He presses his face into Louis's neck, panting, so far gone in subspace that he can't even remember how to speak.

"You're such a good boy. I am so pleased with you," Louis whispers, holding Bradley tight. He knows they have to move eventually, that he needs to take care of the condom and get Bradley some water, but right now, all he wants is to hold him.

It's like hearing words through water. Bradley absorbs them and is warmed by them, but they're coming from far, far away. He curls closer, needing the touch to bring him back from the very far place he'd been in his mind, so focused on Louis and serving him that all thoughts of himself, his body, his own needs, had utterly disappeared. He'd be scared if he had the brainpower for it; as it is, he just struggles to come back up, rejoin the world that he knows is out there waiting.

Louis shifts a little, leaning more fully against the back of the couch, Bradley cradled against his chest. He rubs his back, in slow soothing circles, lapsing into French, where he knows more endearments than he does in English, knowing his tone is more important the actual words, an occasional "beautiful boy," and "all mine" interspersed with the rest.

The soft, steady touches, and the comforting buzz of Louis's voice, gently lead Bradley back into something closer to his right mind. He first notices that Louis is speaking French, beautifully, and in such a warm voice that it's like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. Then he realizes that he's curled in the man's lap, that his arse and his legs and his fingers are sore, all from the recent activity. That he'd be chilled if he weren't absorbing so much heat from Louis's big, solid body. Finally, he gets words back; not all of them, but a few, and he opens his eyes and sighs.

"So much," he says simply, shifting a little in Louis's arms to let him know he's more or less back.

That gets a soft chuckle from Louis and he kisses the top of Bradley's head. "Bed again?"

"Mmm," Bradley agrees. Hoping that somehow, magically, he and Louis will be transported from couch to bed without having to move. He is warm, he is sore, and he does not wish to shift himself, even a little bit.

It's not exactly a resounding vote for moving and Louis laughs again. He shifts Bradley, lifting him from his cock, but keeps him close to his chest. He gets the condom off and wraps it in a tissue, leaving it beside them for the moment, to be disposed of later. "Do you think you can wrap your legs around me and hold on?"

"Mmph," Bradley murmurs into Louis's skin again, this time skeptical. He'd been able to hold on as Louis moved him off his cock, as he went about the business of removing the condom and getting rid of it, but he honestly doesn't think he can hang on if he's being actually lifted. "Probably not," he finally mutters, not lifting his head. "I can...give me just a moment. I can walk. I definitely can."

"There's no rush, now that the other's taken care of," Louis tells him, leaning a bit to one side, stretching to get a hold of the corner of the throw draped over the other end of the couch. He grabs it between two fingers and tugs, finally getting the whole thing to come to him. Shakes it out and covers Bradley, wrapping it around him, content to stay here as long as he needs.

Now that he's covered with a blanket, Bradley's even less inclined than before to shift in any way. He actually manages to stretch himself out a little, easing the pressure on his knees, which have been holding his weight for a very long time in one way or another. Now he's in Louis's lap sideways, leaning against him, letting the world come back into focus slowly but surely.

His hole is a dull, hot ache between his cheeks, and he can't imagine how red and swollen he'll be. The slit of his cock burns too, and his balls, the frustration of being so aroused over and over, with no outlet, starting to catch up with him. But he's too tired and comfortable for them to be too troublesome, and he sighs with contentment at the warm hold of Louis's arm around him.

"I...I'm not sure about this cage," he finally offers, smiling into Louis's chest. "It's awfully frustrating."

"Does that mean you're having second thoughts about wearing it?" Louis asks, kissing the top of his head.

"No," Bradley says, shaking his head, hand reaching down to cover the cage protectively. He loves it already, loves the way it makes him feel and how it makes his body behave. "Just, if I get some kind of hideous strop on before tomorrow when you take it off, fair warning; it's fairly got my teeth grinding with frustration. I'm used to having it off at least twice a day, once in the morning shower and again sometime later, so."

"Yes, I can see why it would have you frustrated," Louis says, unable to resist the urge to tease a little. "If you wore it for a whole week, you'd be going from at least fourteen orgasms a week to none. You might actually explode by the time I let you out. I'd barely get it off you before you'd be coming."

"I don't think you'd even be able to get it off me," Bradley says, laughing and shocked at the idea at the same time. "My cock would just break right through it, I wager. A whole week might be something to work up to, yeah?" He knows it will get easier, more natural and more comfortable as he acclimates to it, but right now, the idea of wearing it for a whole week, chastity for that long, is very nearly terrifying.

"Definitely," Louis says with a smile. "Besides, I'd like you to learn some control over your orgasms as well, not only denying them."

"That might be even harder," Bradley admits, feeling all warm and relaxed now that he's 'waking up' a bit more. He turns his head, kisses the velvet-soft skin just above Louis's collarbone. "I like it when I'm not hard. I just wish it would stop trying, that's what hurts. And everything all trapped in there, it's the oddest feeling, really."

"Yes, it is," Louis agrees, smiling at the kiss. "Especially when you're used to adjusting yourself as needed."

"I haven't even had a piss yet wearing this," Bradley confesses. "It's going to get critical soon, all that cider, but I've been putting it off. I know you said it can be done standing. I suppose I should try to get it over with...at least here I'm not in some public loo with people all around."

Louis nods. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Bradley nods, then, reconsidering, shakes his head. He's torn. Part of him wants the support, and part of him is shy, now, outside the mindset of the scene. "Don't want you to see me dribbling everywhere if I do," he says softly, "and I'm likely to jump about a bit. My slit is already sore." The thought of hot fluid passing through that hole makes him curl a little, protectively.

"Okay." Louis presses a soft kiss to his temple. "You can call me if you need me," he says. "And you might find you need to press a tissue against the end to get any last drops, even after shaking."

With a heartfelt groan, Bradley nods, and then starts gingerly disentangling himself from Louis, and the blanket, and the couch. It's harder than it probably should be, but he manages it, and heads off towards the loo on legs that are only a little bit shaky.

Standing by the toilet he takes hold of the cage, attempting to aim. It's harder than he'd thought it would be, the cage heavy and not at all flexible, and he struggles with it for a bit before finally settling. Gritting his teeth he lets go.

It's worse than he'd thought it would be. It's hot, as usual, but over the abraded skin of his slit it burns like acid and he yelps, grinding his teeth, struggling to keep hold of the smooth plastic. He swears fervently to himself that he's off beer until he has a chance to heal; the less fluid the better, right now, clearly. And when he's done he sees that Louis was right, and he needs to clean himself with a bit of tissue. All in all, much more of an ordeal than he's used to. When he goes back to the couch and to Louis, he's definitely more awake, and thinking yet again how strange his life has become.

"Everything okay?" Louis asks when Bradley comes back out. The boy still looks slightly dazed, but he's moving a little more steadily and his eyes are fully open. "I got you some water," he says, holding out the bottle.

"A bit awkward," Bradley confesses, with a little duck of his head. "I think it'll take some getting used to, a little more practice." He's drawn back to Louis, and to the water, like a magnet. Crawls right back to the couch next to him, amazed at himself and how much he needs the closeness, the touch, the company.

Louis turns so he can put his arm around Bradley, get him cradled against his chest once more, and pulls the blanket back up over both of them. He kisses the side of Bradley's throat. "It will get easier but it is meant to feel different, to remind you, at least when you use the washroom, that you're wearing it. If you could get used to it completely, there wouldn't be any point for most people."

Bradley laughs a little at that. "I hadn't thought of it that way," he admits. "I mean, not that I'm usually getting hard when using the washroom, but it's a different sort of reminder, isn't it."

"Yes." Louis smiles, fingers gently brushing along Bradley's arm. "That you're mine, and your erections, your orgasms, they all belong to me." It's the first time he's said it so clearly.

[feedback welcome. comments screened]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): Weekend, Part II

jennandanica@gmail.com — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 19:54:33 GMT

players only. takes place the day after Louis confesses about his work and Citadel.

continued from here

"Wow. Right now? Right now, right." Unaware that he's clutching the cage to his chest, Bradley nods, wide-eyed. It's all happening so fast, and he can't quite take it all in. He's nearly hard again, and he knows Louis is, and there's an almost surreal sense of potential in the room. Sexy, a little dangerous, very new and very exotic, he's going to be stripped bare and put in a cage, and he realizes that he can't wait.

Louis can't stop smiling, completely enthralled by Bradley's reactions. "You can bring that with you," he says, nodding at the cage as he dumps everything else back in the box and picks it up. "Lead the way." Nudging Bradley towards the bathroom. "You can sit on the edge of the bath. Put a towel under you."

Going where Louis herds him, Bradley makes his way into the bathroom, getting a little bounce back into his step as he adjusts to all these new things, or at least, to the idea of them. He's excited and nervous all at once, and as he folds a towel and takes a seat, he makes a wry face at the way he's gone soft at the cooler air of the bathroom and the cold tile under his arse. He sets the cage carefully on a ledge far enough away that it won't risk getting wet, and clasps his hands to his own elbows to keep himself from fidgeting.

"This isn't like the stuff the girls get at the shops, is it?" he asks Louis, watching him move around and prepare what he needs. "The stuff that smells like flowers? They're always complaining that it burns." Being in theater, there's very little about beauty rituals that remains a mystery to him, though he hasn't tried them all himself yet.

"Not at all," Louis says, putting on the pair of thin latex gloves Marcel's thoughtfully included. "This isn't good for fingers," he continues, wiggling his, "but it's specially formulated for use on male genitals." He pops the cap on the bottle and lets Bradley have a sniff. "And you can do serious damage with the products available in the stores. But if you like the results and we decide to keep you like this, I'll make an appointment for you at the castle and we'll have you waxed."

"Waxed?" Bradley winces at the very idea. He's had his chest waxed once before, for a role, and OW. "I've only had my chest done, and that hurt like fuck. I can only...no, I can't even imagine what it might feel like in more tender places." He reaches down instinctively, covering his cock and balls and hair with a hand, protectively. But something about this, bare in the washroom, getting ready for Louis to bathe him, groom him, remove all his hair, it's got him already hardening again despite the chill. He sighs and makes a face, taking his hand away, since his cock is poking up anyway.

"At least it smells nice," he admits. "Minty. And I'm glad it doesn't burn." Pain is one thing, burning quite another.

"It doesn't. Trust me," Louis says, crouching in front of Bradley and starting to spread a thick even layer of cream around Bradley's cock, careful to include every last hair. "And if you get waxed regularly, it won't be as bad." He grins. "Of course, there's always electrolysis. The only problem with this is that it doesn't last long. The hair will start growing back and it's not a comfortable feeling."

Louis's gentle fingers, the coolness of the cream and the smooth, silky feeling of it are all luxurious enough that Bradley relaxes, sighing with pleasure. "I've heard it's itchy," he says, watching Louis carefully, shivering as those fingers lift his sac. He's never had someone touch him so clinically yet so possessively, and it makes his mind slow down, start easing into that place Louis calls "subspace." He smiles softly. "It's okay though. Maybe waxing. Electrolysis, that's forever, right? What if I've a role that needs me to be all fuzzy and brawny?"

Louis looks up at him, his fingers stilling for a moment. "I was only teasing you," he says. "I would never have you do something that could not be undone."

Bradley blinks down at him. "Guess the tattoo of your name across my arse is right out, then, yeah?" he teases back, gently. Letting Louis know without words that he trusts him, knows that he'd never put him jeopardy, either physically or in any other part of his life.

That gets a soft laugh and Louis kisses Bradley's knee before going back to his work, making sure every bit of hair is covered. "Okay. That's it," he says finally, rocking to his feet and removing the gloves. "We're supposed to wait five minutes and then test a patch before trying to clean it all off." He tosses the gloves in the nearby bin and sits down on the edge of the tub beside Bradley. "How does it feel?"

"Cold," Bradley answers promptly, peering down at the cream. He can't see any hair disappearing, but the cream is thick, and he can't see much at all. "My skin feels a bit numb, almost like spraying solarcaine on a sunburn, but it doesn't hurt a bit." He rubs just below his solar plexus, where an arrow of dark blond hair trails downwards. "Will it look silly, you think, having hair here and none below?"

"I don't know," Louis says, cocking his head to look. "My concern this time was your comfort in the cage. Would you like me to do your chest as well though? It's not too late." Especially as that hair should come off more easily.

Bradley grins at him. "Let me check my shooting schedule first? I need to find out when my next shirtless scene is. But I suppose...you're the one who'll see it. I don't watch myself naked in mirrors much and I'm not messing about with anyone but you, so as long as *you* don't mind, I suppose it's all good?"

"I think you'll look beautiful regardless," Louis says honestly. "And I know lots of men who do one or the other or both for a lot of different reasons. You're not going to look odd or out of place," he tells him, checking his watch. "What are you going to tell your friends if they notice?"

"A raging case of crabs forced a shave," Bradley tells him with a completely straight face, then waits a beat and cracks up. "No, no, not really! I suppose I could tell them about the new 'Manzilian' craze in New York, and that I wanted to give it a go? Maybe that I dropped a piece of gum in my sleep. I'll think of something, for sure. Not too many see me *that* naked, anyway."

Louis laughs, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Well, I'm glad to hear that part. I think I'd like some control over how many people see my boy naked," he says, using the words on purpose, wondering how Bradley will react.

Bradley grins, flushes, and looks down, feeling that unexpected and inexplicable shyness again. "I can tell you for certain that anyone who does, it'll be for work, and nothing else," he says softly. Surprisingly delighted by the possessiveness in Louis's words and tone.

"Good." Louis ruffles Bradley's hair, thinking he might actually burst with happiness. My boy. Words he's never used together before, not for Stuart, not for anyone. Mine. At the age of thirty-four. Good god. Josh and Vince will have a field day, as they say. Not to mention Marie. He glances at his watch again. "Time." He wets a washcloth in the sink and wipes at a small patch on Bradley's groin, smiling at the hair comes away cleanly. "Perfect," he says, continuing to wipe, folding and refolding the washcloth as he goes, Bradley's bare skin gradually revealed.

The skin feels tender now, but still not painful, and Bradley watches with fascination as Louis reveals more and more naked, smooth skin with every pass of the cloth. It's chilly, and he can feel the cool air right on his skin now, with no protective hair. He's had that hair since puberty and it's very odd, seeing his cock without it.

It *does* look bigger, though, he thinks, even larger than his very respectable 7 1/2 inches. And it's still interested in the proceedings, thick and heavy if not quite erect, swaying between his legs as Louis moves him to be sure he wipes every bit of the cream away.

"There we go," Louis says, sitting back on his haunches when he's finished. "I think it looks great." He grins up at Bradley and gives him a quick kiss as he rocks to his feet again. "Grab a shower to make sure we got everything and I'll put the cage on when you're done."

Bradley'd been close to orgasm before the knock on the door, and he can still feel the itchy edge of it at the base of his spine. He's not sure if Louis knows it, or if he doesn't know, or if he'll get to come at some point tonight or not...in fact, his mind is jumbled with all kinds of questions. But for now he just jumps in the shower and soaps himself up, paying particular attention to the fascinatingly smooth skin around his cock, the lack of hair. The way he almost feels like he can sense the ridges of his own fingertips when he touches himself there, the skin is so sensitive.

Once he's clean, he's also very close to completely hard again, and he rinses off quickly and steps out of the shower, not lingering, this time. There, on the counter, are a condom and a small bottle of lube. Bradley laughs a little, shaking his head.

"I'm clean!" he calls to Louis, toweling his hair, glad that it dries so quickly, straight and fine as it is. Louis is right there by the doorway, he sees. And naked. He gets a shiver of desire, just seeing him like that. "And I shouldn't have yelled," he finishes, smiling. Touching his own stiff cock gently with his hand, he glances questioningly at Louis. "I...I don't know how this works," he confesses.

"Well, given the state you're in," Louis says, stepping back into the bathroom, "I think we need you thinking the unsexiest thoughts you can come up with, because I'm not going to fuck you until you're wearing that cage, and for that we need you soft."

"I could come?" Bradley offers hopefully, smiling his brightest, most appealing smile at Louis. "That's a brilliant way to go soft. The best way, really. And then there'd be no risk of blue balls. Just think of the benefits to my health!"

"No, not unless you're going to wear the cage for the rest of the week," Louis says, leaning back against the door and watching Bradley. Enjoying the negotiations. "If you're only going to be in it until tomorrow night, you've already had your orgasm."

Louis is smiling, but there's a layer of steel under his words that tells Bradley he's not joking. He really does mean to put Bradley into the cage, though the length of time is clearly fluid. His eyes widen a bit, and he nods. "I, um. Tomorrow night? That sounds good, I think, for a first time." He has no idea what this will feel like, after all, and the thought of the unknown for an entire week is a bit terrifying.

That same note of steel in Louis's voice, the knowledge that he's taking control, is making it awfully hard to make himself soft. He looks away from Louis's gorgeous body and closes his eyes, thinking of work. Thinking of changing the tyre on his rental that keeps going flat. Takes a few deep breaths and shakes his hands out, imagining he's on set, imagining he's going to have to snog someone awful. Angel, perhaps, it's like snogging his sister, he knows, since they've had to do it more than once already. That does it, and his cock is flagging, softening, if slowly, and he sighs in relief.

"Good job," Louis says softly, moving closer. "Now I want you to keep thinking those thoughts." He picks up the ring and fits it over Bradley's cock, eyeballing the cage and deciding it needs two spacers which he slides over Bradley's cock as well before trying the cage on him for size. Close but it might need one more spacer. "How does that feel?"

"Tight," Bradley grits through his teeth, focusing with all his might on the unsexiest things he can imagine; the rings fit around him, and Louis's fingers are on him, and then his cock is encased in cool, smooth, hard plastic. It's the strangest sensation he can imagine, especially as it immediately tries to swell again. "Not too tight, just snug. Good. Strange. I don't know."

Louis nods. "Unsexy thoughts," he reminds him, removing the cage and fitting in one more spacer before he locks the cage into place. "You can open your eyes. This," holding up one small jar, "is petroleum jelly. If you start chafing, you can rub a little of this around the edge of the ring, and whenever you take a shower, it's a good idea to sprinkle some talc," he holds up another small container, "the plain baby kind, not anything perfumed, over the whole area."

Taking a deep breath and relaxing as he realizes that the cage is on, Bradley opens his eyes.

His cock is held neatly, firmly, inside the clear plastic cage. It has a few openings here and there, but he can't do more than touch himself with a fingertip as he explores it, wonderingly, with both fingers and eyes.

Strangest of all is the feeling. It's not heavy, precisely, but it's definitely there, and the weight is a little strange as he shifts from foot to foot. And his cock, held so snugly, cannot possibly get hard, he realizes with a bit of alarm. He's turned on now, can still feel that itch of desire, but he's held tightly down, and every pulse of blood to his cock is blocked by the cage.

He turns wide, startled eyes to Louis. "Feels so odd," he nearly whimpers, his hand still touching plastic.

Louis smiles, knowing he'll have to repeat himself later, that the boy hasn't taken in a word he's said. "Yes, I know. It does at first, but you'll get used to it. It may take a while though." More than a weekend. He brushes his fingers across the plastic, placing his hand over Bradley's and kissing him, softly. "It looks wonderful. You look wonderful."

Louis's hand, his kiss, have Bradley straining to get hard, and failing. The pressure is deep and strange, the way it's forcing his cock to stay soft, despite how he should be ragingly erect by now. He whines into the kiss, pressing close, disoriented by the feelings. Wildly, irrationally aroused by the fact that Louis has taken control of his cock, that he owns it now, that Bradley can't just get hard whenever he likes, or his cock gets the notion. Everything inside him aches with it. Without his hard-on he can focus on the other parts, on Louis's hands, on his own hands as they stroke down Louis's sides. It's brilliant, and strange, and wonderful.

Deepening the kiss, Louis grinds lightly against Bradley. Their tongues curl and tease and tangle with each other and he groans, harder than ever, aching, the feel of plastic against his cock a strangely potent aphrodisiac. And then he's pulling back, already breathing hard, nodding at the sink behind Bradley. "Turn around. Brace yourself," he orders. "I want your eyes open and on the mirror the whole time."

Nearly blind with the overload of stimuli, Bradley does as he's told, turning, leaning over the sink, spreading his legs and tilting up his hips. "Yes, sir," he whispers, just loud enough for Louis to hear, about as loudly as he can speak, just now. If just kissing and petting felt so good, he can only dream of what fucking might feel like. He can't wait to find out. He stares at his own reflection, but he's nearly blind; so focused on Louis, and on the sensations rioting through his body, that he can barely see.

Louis tears open the condom and rolls it on over his cock, pinching the air from the tip with his fingers. He slicks those same fingers with lube, his eyes on the mirror, locked on Bradley's face as he slowly pushes two into him, nice and easy, working them in and out, the heat and the tightness and the knowledge that he has complete control over the boy making his cock throb.

Bradley had thought he'd been turned on before. He thought he'd been trying to get hard, before. That had been nothing, he now realizes, as Louis's fingers push so surely and firmly into him, working him open, massaging his inner muscles into pleasure-soaked relaxation, openness, acceptance. His eyes glaze a little more, in the mirror, and he blinks rapidly as his mouth drops open without a sound.

He can see his own chest rise and fall as he starts gulping for air. His cock is straining, now, pushing hard and insistently against its smooth prison, but it's not hard or driving him towards his own orgasm. All the nerves in his ass seem to be much more sensitive, instead, and he squirms and moans, squeezing Louis's fingers with his inner muscles, looking for more.

"Patience," Louis murmurs, smiling, curling those fingers to rub over Bradley's prostate before adding his thumb and pushing them apart, stretching the muscle open and gaping his hole.

Two fingers and a thumb are a lot for Bradley, still, who hasn't been with someone in so long before Louis and who's only had smaller things inside him since they started to play. He struggles to keep his breathing even, knowing he needs to stay relaxed, but unable to stop his body clamping down against this intrusion. The fingers against his prostate get a yelp of surprised pleasure out of him; it's almost shocking how much more intense this feeling is, now that he's not distracted by his cock.

"That feels good, doesn't it?" Louis says, not really expecting an answer, his fingers pushing deeper, spreading wider, slowly forcing Bradley's body to open for him.

"Yessss," Bradley hisses out through his teeth. He's not blinded by the need to come, and it keeps him more alert, more aware, and more *here* than he might otherwise be, lost in his own pleasure. "Feels so good." He twists his hips against the burning stretch, breath hitching as his cock jerks in the cage, fighting its constriction.

Louis keeps working Bradley open, scissoring his fingers and stretching the muscle, rubbing over his prostate again and again, the noises Bradley's making going straight to his cock until he can't hold off any longer, swipes a last bit of lube over the condom and lines up, slowly pushing in, his hands on Bradley's hips, keeping him still for it.

Having Louis pinning him down, holding him still, is agony. Bradley can feel every inch of Louis's cock as it slides into his ass, smooth with lube, slick and hot and brutally hard. He cries out as it pushes deep inside him, every nerve ending alive and sparking, both with the knowledge that Louis is taking him like this and that his own pleasure is irrelevant. He's being used. His ass is for Louis to fuck, and his own pleasure won't come now, will only come when Louis permits it, and the reality of that finally hits home and slams him down into subspace so hard that he's almost dizzy with it. He rests his cheek on the cool tile of the counter, panting, squirming at the strange, dull pleasure in his cock, the aching fiery good feelings from his hole, the way they combine and mix and send him flying.

Louis stills, cock halfway out, throbbing inside Bradley's hole. "Boy. I said eyes on the mirror," he says softly, only a hint of a growl in his tone.

Bradley's body jumps in surprise at Louis's tone and he jerks his head back up, blinking at his reflection in the mirror. He looks dazed; his pupils are blown wide and his eyes are nearly black with arousal, his hair is a tangle over his forehead and he's flushed, sweating a little, and he'd forgotten about Louis's command completely. He licks his lips, wetting them before he can speak. "Sorry, sir," he murmurs. Sincere, wincing a little with embarrassment that he's forgotten his one order.

The quick correction and apology are exactly what Louis from Bradley and he nods, smiling at him, letting him know it's okay, that there's room for mistakes and for fixing them. "You feel so good," he murmurs, sinking in right to the root again, his fingers prying open Bradley's cheeks, his eyes flickering downward to the place where their bodies meet, the slightly reddened skin stretching around his cock. "So hot and tight."

The words are music to Bradley's ears and he relaxes again, keeping his eyes on the mirror though he's mostly watching Louis's face. Fascinated by his expressions, the pleasure that's so clear on his features as he plunges his cock into Bradley's body, holding him open, digging in deep. He can still feel every centimetre, rubbing him hard from the inside, and he whimpers again, high in his throat, as his own cock tries desperately to harden yet again.

It goes nowhere, of course, and he sighs out, relieved, sinking into submission and relaxation, opening himself totally for Louis's pleasure.

Slowly Louis increases his pace, thrusting in harder, deeper, pulling all the way out before driving back in, eyes locked on the mirror, the image imprinted on his mind. He leans forward, canting his hips, one hand sliding into Bradley's hair, tugging his head back, using the hold for leverage as he pushes in again and again. Taking his time.

Bradley's getting the idea that Louis likes to watch...and he knows how to put on a show. Licking his lips, arching his neck up into the pull of the hand in his hair, he parts his lips again, moaning softly, eyes gone heavy and half-lidded as he meets Louis's gaze in their reflections. Showing off. Showing Louis how this feels to him, how amazing it is, how he is loving every moment and every thrust and every touch he's being given.

Louis groans, the sound low and ragged, welling up from his chest, his cock throbbing violently inside the boy. He tugs even harder, running his other hand over Bradley's ass, nails scraping lightly at the skin, and then he slaps him, hard, on one cheek, watching as the skin goes white and then red, Bradley's hole clenching with the shock.

The slap is another layer of heat, sensation, bearing down on his nerves, one more reason for his skin to flame and for him to cry out. He does, gaze never wavering from Louis in the mirror, even as helpless tears well in his eyes; the sting of the pulling on his hair, the burn deep inside where Louis's cock is pounding him into softness, the sharp slap, they all combine together to completely overwhelm him.

"That's it," Louis breathes, his cock jerking sharply, his hand delivering another slap to the other cheek. "Cry for me." His hand landing again and again, in time to his thrusts, pleasure flushing quickly through his frame, pushing him closer and closer.

Bradley doesn't want to cry, he *doesn't* and he's fighting it and battling it with every bit of strength he has left, despite Louis's words. But he can't keep the tears in, not when he's strung out like this between Louis's hand and his cock, drawn tight, arched up, the slaps sending shocks through his whole body that jerk him forward, only to be pulled back onto the punishing thrusts of Louis's cock. The tears well up and then they're spilling over and he bites his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Mon dieu. That. That's what he wants. To see those tears on Bradley's cheeks, glistening under the lights overhead, to know that the boy fought and fought hard and still surrendered, every slap to his cheeks drawing more. He drives in still harder, riding Bradley, reaming him open, knowing he's going to be feeling this later, feeling it for days. Slams into him again and again until his breath suddenly catches, hitches, his cock pulsing hotly, then spills into the boy's body, his battered hole, wishing he was filling him, no barrier between them, marking him, claiming him with his come.

Watching Louis's face when he comes is like a special gift and Bradley holds his breath, bracing against the brutal last few slams of his body, then feeling him freeze, shudder, spill into him. Every pulse rippling through him and the naked pleasure on his face so gorgeous that Bradley feels as satisfied as if he'd come himself. He blinks away the tears, breathing again, great gasps for air now that everything has gone still for a moment. He feels dizzy and stupid with arousal, knows he is nearly out of strength, but manages to hold himself up so that he's still keeping his eyes open, still on the mirror.

Louis stays right where he is, his cock still throbbing, still held tight by Bradley's body, the two of them fitting so perfectly. He curses softly under his breath, words of pleasure, amused disbelief, aftershocks of pleasure rippling through him. "Good boy," he says, his hands back on Bradley's hips, thumbs caressing his reddened skin, giving them both a moment to settle. But finally he eases out, one hand keeping Bradley where he is while he strips off the condom and tosses it into the bin, and then he's pulling Bradley up and into his arms, drawing him close.

Bradley can't believe how shaky he feels. Small, and fragile, and strangely delicate, and he's not felt like this ever before, not him, not the jock and the lad's lad that he's always been. He practically tries to crawl inside Louis's skin as soon as he gets the chance, burrowing close to him, face pressed against his chest and arms tucked in tight. His cock, still soft in its prison, nudges against Louis's thigh, but gets no friction or sensation, just the bump of contact. His prostate is throbbing with his pulse, stimulated past bearing it, and he rocks his hips back and forth mindlessly, trying to ease the ache.

"Let's get you back into bed," Louis says after another moment, kissing the top of Bradley's head. He keeps his arm tight around Bradley's waist, keeping him close, as they walk back into the other room and he gets them both tucked back in under the covers. "Have some water," he says, opening the half-bottle that's still on the nightstand and offering it to Bradley.

"I've never had to drink so much water, since my last game of footie," Bradley says, only a little incoherently, before sipping obediently at the water. He's also never felt so tired, or so exhilarated, or so completely wrung out before, so he's grateful that Louis always seems to think ahead and have the water right there for him. Sighing, he snuggles down into the bedcovers, eyes at half-mast, but still squirmy with the heat of being fucked and the frustrated arousal that has nowhere to go. He moves a little, then again, trying to find a position that won't put pressure on his cock or tease the sore, raw skin of his ass. Having Louis so close, smelling of sex and come, isn't helping; Bradley's deep breathing is just surrounding him with the musk of it. He moans quietly, twisting a little again, getting a leg up over one of Louis's, unable to stop his restlessness.

"It's hard to get used to at first," Louis says softly, brushing the blond fringe out of Bradley's eyes and kissing his temple. "Feels like you might go mad, but it will ease," he promises, not quite ready to tell Bradley yet that he spent his first two years at work as one of those in-house subs and can speak from personal experience.

"It's like an itch I can't scratch," Bradley says, a little fretfully, as he rolls back onto his back. "I loved it though, during. It was brilliant, so good, it was...I can't even say. But really, really good." He's close enough that when he rolls again, he ends up sprawled half-over Louis, comfortably (or as comfortably as he *can* be just now) tucked up along his side. Touching like this seems to settle him a little.

He doesn't even realize it, but he has no training or context for this, no formal understanding of a master and boy relationship, to settle himself with as a framework of expectations; he knows that it's new and strange and utterly unknown, and that's all. He does sense that Louis is taking special care with him, though, and he can sense the way Louis has taken control of him, the way he is so calm and sure; that inspires both trust and respect, as well as the desire he's already so familiar with.

All this prompts him to lean up, kiss Louis's mouth gently. Not a provocative or teasing kiss, just lips together, enjoying their closeness, sharing breath because he wants to.

Louis kisses back, his mouth soft, matching Bradley's. "I'm glad you liked it," he says. "I certainly enjoyed myself." Eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "You seemed to come up quicker with it on," he observes. "But that could have to do with the intensity of the scene as well." Still learning Bradley, both as his lover and his submissive.

"I dunno," Bradley answers, thinking it over as he puts his head back down on Louis's shoulder. "It was...different. Maybe it's just that I've not come and don't want to have a nap, after, because of that? Dunno. It's strange though, it was like floating when it was happening and it still is, rather." It's just not the sleepy sort of headspace. This is more alert, more awake. No less needy, but he's having the strangest urge to serve Louis in some way, make him tea or sit at his feet, anything to fulfill his smallest wish. It's bizarre and he squashes the thought, not knowing where it came from. "Just, different. Better because I could feel everything and not worry about coming my brains out? I think so, yeah." He loves it, even though he's hating it just now, that unscratchable itch burning at him.

Louis laughs. "Hopefully, you'll keep feeling that way." He is tired though, two orgasms and no naps later. "Would you mind if I slept for a while? We can keep talking if you want, if you have questions, but I think I need a nap before I'll be able to do anything else."

Bradley giggles a little. "Usually I'm falling asleep while you're still moving about," he teases gently. "Course it's fine, and I'll probably nod off for a bit myself." Even just the suggestion is triggering a need to yawn and stretch, though he does so gingerly, trying to keep anything from twanging at his oversensitive nerves. "I'll think of more questions in my sleep," he informs Louis sleepily, tucking in closer to him.

///

When Louis wakes, it's early afternoon and Bradley is still lying on top of him, leg wrapped around his hip, his breath warm against Louis's neck. He shivers lightly, smiling, body already, god, instantly responding to the boy's closeness. "Hey, sleepyhead," he whispers, glancing at the clock. "Time to wake up." Lightly tickling Bradley's ribs.

For all his protests of not being too tired, Bradley had slept hard and long. When he feels Louis stir, he starts to wake, slowly; the fingers running up his ribcage makes him flinch violently away, with a yelp and a flail of his arm, landing on his back and blinking at the ceiling in shock.

"Not fair," he wheezes, trying to get himself oriented and his heart to stop pounding from the sudden jolt of adrenaline.

"I'm sorry," Louis says but he's laughing. "I thought I was being gentle. I didn't realize you were that ticklish." He rolls over and kisses Bradley's shoulder. "Forgive me?"

'Mmmrph," Bradley grumbles, but he relaxes, breathing deeply, and gets an arm up and around Louis's own shoulder, pulling him down clumsily until he can kiss his neck. He's just never all that coordinated when he's just woken up, and he stretches hugely, feeling much, much better after his nap. His body has relaxed and calmed itself and the cage is just a strange weight between his legs, not the torturous constriction it had been a few hours before.

"Good idea, that nap," he tells Louis with a smile. "Even with the surprise ending."

"Yes," Louis nods, grinning at Bradley. "I feel much better." He glances at the clock again, his stomach taking the cue to grumble right then. "It's stopped raining. We should get dressed and go and have some lunch, pick up some food from the market for dinner."

Bradley's stomach is growling too, picking up and echoing Louis's start, and he laughs a little. "Yeah, definitely. I'm more than a bit peckish. *And* it's a gorgeous sunny day out, we should get at least a bit of walking in before spending an entire day lazing about in this sinfully marvelous bed."

"Good." Louis pushes up onto all fours and dips down to kiss Bradley one more time before he slides off the bed. "Ten minutes, top of the stairs," he says with a grin, heading for the washroom.

Rolling his eyes at Louis while smiling fondly at the same time, Bradley also slips out from under the covers, stretches again, and moves around, gathering his clothes. Finally finding his left sock, he has his thin old jeans in his hand when he looks down, catching the glint of light off plastic.

"Louis?" he calls, setting the jeans aside for the moment. "Can you show me how to get this thing off? I can't quite puzzle it out from this angle."

Louis yawns and stretches, coming out from the bathroom, his jeans and t-shirt picked up from the back of the couch. "I can show you tomorrow night," he says, stepping into his jeans. "When we take it off for the week."

"But I thought you said we were going out?" Bradley gestures at his worn-thin old jeans. "It'll show through those for sure, but I can put it back on the minute we get back through the door."

"No, we agreed that you'd wear it for the weekend," Louis says firmly, pulling his t-shirt over his head, "and it won't show under those. It shouldn't show under any street clothes."

Bradley starts feeling a little spike of panic. His heart thuds harder against his ribs, and his jaw sets mulishly. The newness of this all, the rapidfire swings of events, from shocking news to shockingly good but scary sex, the roles, the rules, the cage, it all hits him at once. Wearing this cage out, he just *knows* people will see it, that they'll take one look at him and know.

"It's going to be a crowd," he protests, not even realizing that a little thread of that panic is working its way into his voice. "I'll, I'll bump into someone and they'll know. Someone will see it. They'll know, they *will.*"

"No, they won't," Louis says again, gently but firmly, determined to help Bradley work through his fears. "Trust me. Put your clothes on and let me see."

It's one thing here, in their little cocoon of privacy, this flat where they can do anything and no one will know, or care. It's different going out into the light of day with something so blatantly...kinky, but not just that. Different. New. Strange, like this, on his body, worn even under clothes. In Bradley's stressed mind, it has become some kind of symbol for this whole relationship, for everything that's changed so drastically in so short a time. He's hairless like a child and his cock is in a cage. But that's just a tiny part of it.

He actually takes a step back, face pale. "Maybe the plastic will pinch or rub or get caught on something. What if I have to have a piss? What if something spills? It's, it's not even mine anymore, it's yours now, you've put it in a cage, that's not, it's not something people just do every day. Oh god."

"Hold on. You're getting ahead of yourself," Louis says, closing the distance between them. He sits down at the kitchen table and pulls Bradley into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. "If it pinches or rubs, we'll find a washroom and I'll take it off for you. If you have to piss, I'll come with you and we'll make sure no one else is watching, or we'll come back here. It's not like we're going very far away. And lastly, if you want, you can wear one of my sweaters or jackets and that way your crotch will be covered."

Stiff at first, Bradley slowly relaxes at Louis's warm, steadying touch, his strength, and his reasonable and calm reaction to Bradley's unexpected panic. Some stubborn, contrary part of him wants to kick and scream and fight it, but he crushes that down ruthlessly. Louis is right. He's being silly.

"Right," he takes a careful, measured breath. He leans into Louis just a little. "Right, we could do that. That makes sense." Embarrassed by his own outburst, he tries to pull away from Louis's hold, go back to getting himself dressed.

"Wait a minute." Louis tugs him back, kissing his shoulder. "You have to trust me to take care of you. Not only in here but out there as well. I would never risk hurting your career or humiliating you in public."

"I know," Bradley says, looking down, away, anywhere but directly at Louis. "I *do* know that, I let you take off my hair, I really do know. It's just. I don't know. I forgot for a minute." Or was overwhelmed by the rush of everything and the prospect of going out with people, other people around. He finally meets Louis's eyes, hopes he can tell he means it. "I know you'll take care of me. Out there, too."

"Good." Louis hugs Bradley, kissing his shoulder again, and then lets him go. "Get dressed, and we'll get something to eat. I'm starving and if we don't have lunch first, I'll buy the whole market for dinner."

"Low blood sugar," Bradley offers as an excuse for his own random mood swings. "Gets me every time. Without my five meals a day I'm a complete prat." He yanks on his jeans, defiantly ignoring the cock cage altogether, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. With his wallet and his phone in his pocket he's ready to go. He believes in traveling light.

Following Bradley's lead on this, for now, Louis doesn't mention the cock cage again. He shoves his keys and wallet in his back pocket, clips his cellphone to a belt loop, and casually drapes a jacket over his arm, just in case. "What are you in the mood for?" he asks, thinking of all the things they need to talk about, all the things that any boy he was training would come to him already knowing, and all the ways in which Bradley's different and some of those things simply don't apply. It's enough to make his head spin but looking at Bradley at they lock up and head out through the market, he knows it's worth it.

"Something with meat in," Bradley says decisively. He's desperate for protein, wonders if it's a side effect of all that strenuous sex. "I'm completely famished, now we're out here." The market smells amazing, and he's focusing on that, on the way the sun is shining after the morning's rain, and not thinking even the tiniest bit about the cage or the fact that Louis is walking next to him, not touching him, but still controlling a very important part of his body.

Among the huge group of tents and stands assembled along the streets of the town, he spots one that looks like it's selling meat pies, along with fresh produce and other farm-stand wares. He tugs on Louis's arm, his nose practically twitching at the rich, savoury smells. "Over there?" he asks, hopefully.

"Mais oui," Louis says, pleased that Bradley seems to be overcoming his earlier worries. They head for the stall. "Mm. Which would you like?" They all look - and smell - delicious, topped with perfectly browned flaky pastry. "They have beef, veal, pork, salmon and duck pate," he says, translating the signs in front of each row of pies for him.

"This is why I couldn't live in France," Bradley informs Louis, teasing, shaking his head. "I'd be as big as a house in no time at all. I want one of each!" He inspects the pies carefully, though, and finally chooses a beef and a pork pie, both of which smell mouth-wateringly delicious.

He's self-consciously making sure the front of his body comes nowhere near anyone in the crowd. Fortunately, there aren't too many people about, but he doesn't press through them the way he normally would. Instead, he makes sure that Louis is in front of him most of the time. Even though he knows it's his imagination, he can't stop feeling that the cage will be instantly known if anyone bumps him, or touches it in any way. He tries to convince himself that it's no different than the cup he wears for football, but even that backfires; cups are bloody obvious, and definitely noticeable, and that just makes him more protective.

^Two pork, two beef and two ciders, please,^ Louis tells the woman running the stall. She slides the pies into a box and sets it on the counter, then pours them two ciders. Louis hands the box with the pies to Bradley, pays for their lunch, picks up the ciders and grabs some napkins and plastic forks from the end of the counter before they head for a table in front of one of the restaurants. On market day, the tables are a free-for-all.

He notices Bradley steps in behind him, obviously self-conscious, the way his cheeks are flushed and his head keeps dipping down. It's to be expected though, and likely nothing Louis says will make any difference until he gets used to the way the cage feels and the fact that people can't see it. "Have you tried the foie gras here?" he asks as they sit down.

"Not yet, it's not one of my favorites," Bradley confesses, sliding in to his seat gingerly, making sure nothing catches or pulls. He's just not used to it yet, he assures himself, and at least sitting down he can relax and stop worrying. "I'm really more a meat-and-potatoes sort of chap, me, though living in France has definitely broadened my food horizons." His stomach grumbles at him again and he digs into the meat pie, ravenous, closing his eyes with pleasure at the first mouthful. "Food just doesn't taste like this at home," he informs Louis. "At least, not that I can remember. This is bloody *delicious*."

"The English do fish and chips well," Louis says, prepared to give them something. He digs into his own pie, groaning softly at just how good it is. "But yes, I always miss this when I spend any amount of time on the road." He smiles, watching Bradley, the look on his face making his jeans a little tighter. "I could make a beef bourguignon for dinner tonight, if you haven't had your fill of meat after this."

"I will never have my fill of meat," Bradley tells him, appalled at the very idea, eating through his first pie quickly and appreciatively. "And beef sounds lovely for supper. I can make roasts and decent pasta, and even a passable curry, but nothing with a fancy sauce, really. That'll be a treat. It had better be a late supper though, with all this food." He tests the cider with a sip, and then grins at the sweetness and the slight alcoholic bite. "*Real* cider," he says, delighted.

Louis nods. "Made locally," he says. "Like everything else. It truly is a wonderful area to live in." He takes another bite of pie and washes it down with the homemade cider. "Which reminds me, when does your show finish shooting? Do you go home to England at that point?" It's not something they've managed to discuss yet. Before he went to New York seemed too early, and since he's been back, they've been otherwise occupied.

"We've a month and a half left of shooting, and then we go on break," Bradley tells him, "but we've been picked up for another season. So, we're not sure quite yet what the schedule will be, they're crap at keeping anything like a regular shooting schedule at the BBC, but we'll definitely be back. And before too long, most likely. I'll probably go back to London for a while, knock about for a bit and take a break. Not sure yet, really." He smiles at Louis. "My flatmate in London doesn't see much of me. I think he likes it that way."

"Is he an actor as well?"

"Nah, a cameraman. He works for a news programme in the city." Bradley tips one shoulder in a shrug. "He gets the flat to himself most of the time, I have a place to call home when I'm not on a shoot, and it all works out fairly well. He's an all right sort. Don't know him all that well, but he's tidy and he pays the bills on time."

"Which is what's important," Louis acknowledges. A month and a half doesn't seem long, but he visits London quite often. Wouldn't find it difficult to find more reasons for doing so. "What about your friends? Colin? Angel? Do you see them during your break?"

"Oh yeah," Bradley enthuses. "Me and Colin, we went on sort of a road trip on the last break. Brought a camera along and just tramped about all over England and Wales and Ireland, a bit, visiting Colin's family. They're grand. And Angel lives just down the street, with her boyfriend, we spend a lot of time together, doing appearances, that kind of thing. She's aces. I dunno what we'll get up to this break, though, I think Colin's doing some play on the West End, lucky sod. And for me, well..." he pauses, glances at Louis, suddenly uncertain. "I thought I might come back for a visit now and then? If it's all right with you, I mean, of course."

"I was hoping you would," Louis responds truthfully. "I was also thinking that we have several properties in London, so I will have lots of excuses to visit you too." He smiles, letting his fingers brush across the back of Bradley's hand.

Warming at the touch, Bradley's smile widens as he meets Louis's eyes. "And it's only a couple hours away, if you take the train, or drive, or even fly," he points out. "Not so far that one of couldn't come for a weekend without it being much of a bother at all."

"Exactly." Louis grins back, incredibly pleased they seem to be on the same page. He finishes his first pie and starts in on the second, taking this one a little more slowly not that his hunger's not so fierce. "So, now that we're out in public and we have to keep our hands off each other even though no one's paying us any attention, is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

Bradley takes a long moment, eating, to try to gather his thoughts. Then he gestures with his free hand, frustrated that he can't seem to find the words. "So much I want to ask, but I don't even know *how* to ask some of it. When I should say "sir" and when not to, for one, though obviously not when we're out like this. How this sort of relationship even works when we're not together. What the rules are. What happens when I'm out at a pub and some fit bloke tries to pull me?" He stops for a breath. "It's so easy when we're in your flat," he finishes quietly. "It all just works. It's when we leave that suddenly I feel like everything's upside-down and I haven't a map."

"Well, we could draw up a contract, something that would spell all those things out, that you could look at whenever you weren't sure," Louis says, although he wonders if it's not too soon, if it might not be one more overwhelming thing on top of all the others. "Have you read about contracts?"

Bradley brightens a little at the thought. Scrambling as he is for context, a structure for all these new experiences, something concrete like a contract sounds like a blessing. "I have, a little bit here and there. It's rather like a list, right? Of rules and, I don't know, guidelines. Responsibilities, and that. That might be just exactly right. I'm feeling a bit lost," he confesses, now just toying restlessly with what remains of his food. "It's not like I can pop round to my mate's house and ask, either, you know? It's not really something that's out there in the general knowledge."

"That's true, and what is out there is a lot of misinformation," Louis says, taking another sip of cider. Delicious. "We should also probably talk about you becoming a member where I work at some point. We have courses and a vast library, and there's information on our website which you can trust. And then of course there is the journaling system, and you can ask other members when you're not sure of something. It's better than trying to ask your mate," he grins.

With a deep breath that feels a lot like relief--Louis seems to understand, he's encouraging, he gets that Bradley doesn't understand all this just yet--Bradley nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds amazing. The book was great, for things like the kneeling, and the different kinds of play, and that. It was pretty clear on what you should do if you find yourself in a kinky club, or how to tie up your lover the first time, and how to play safe, with safewords and all. But this feels, it's more than that, isn't it? More than just two blokes having it off with a bit of kink thrown in."

The book *had* touched on Master/Slave relationships, collared slaves, but this doesn't feel like that, either. Different, somehow. Bradley's pretty sure he's not cut out for slavery, anyway, though he's yet to form an opinion on collars. "I just. I would like to visit the library. Maybe see how other couples do it, how they work it out. It's all so bloody *new,* is all."

"I know it is, and although it might seem like we're forging ahead, I'm not in any rush. We can slow down, we can take things easier, you can ask me to stop and explain anything you want when we're not in scene, and if we're in scene, you can use your safeword if you need me to stop, and you can say yellow if you need me to slow down - like a stop light."

"I like that," Bradley says. "Slow word, instead of stop word. The thing is, when we're in scene, everything seems so easy. It's just, it rolls, we fit, it all feels absolutely freaking sublime, you know? It's after. Or before. Or like this, right now." He ducks his head. "I don't know how to mix it, is all. The boyfriend bit, that I can do, that's familiar. There's this whole extra part where I don't even know the words, though."

"Okay, well, when you're talking to someone like Colin or Angel or someone completely outside the lifestyle, which is what we tend to call it, I'm your boyfriend." Louis pauses, making sure no one's listening but they're all wrapped up in their own conversations and his voice is kept low. "When we're scening together, or you're talking to someone at the club or who knows about what we do, I'm your sir, although I might also be called your dominant, and you're my boy, or my submissive."

More relief, now, as Louis defines things for him. Bradley leans towards Louis, actually holding his hand, now, listening avidly. "And you can be both at the same time," he nods, "just describing it different ways to different people. Yeah. Does the whole..." he gestures at his lap, meaningfully. "Does this make even having lunch a scene? I mean, if we're alone. Does wearing this, like this, for you, what does this make things outside the bedroom? I can't touch myself, not even alone. It's sort of making it feel like that, a little, right now."

"Not really a scene, no, because a scene tends to have a beginning and an end. It's more that you're interested in giving up control to me when we're outside a specific scene and I'm interested in taking it. It's all part and parcel of a D/s relationship, although different couples negotiate different terms, and some prefer to just agree on those terms while others draw up contracts."

"Oh." Still a bit vague for Bradley, who likes things very black and white and clear, but much better than the muddle he'd been in before about all this. "Right, okay, so this is just a bit of it that...leaks over into regular life. And other things, those might, too? Or might not, but we can figure that out as we go, right? Is a contract something terribly formal and serious? It sounded rather nice how you'd described it before."

Louis laughs. "I'll try not to make it too formal and serious, but yes, some are. Especially when you get into Master and slave contracts."

Bradley blanches a little at that, shaking his head. "I am *definitely* not ready for that sort of contract," he says, completely sure. "Not even close. Not remotely. Just, no."

"Neither am I," Louis says, setting his fork down. "And quite honestly, I'm not sure I ever will be. I like the boyfriend component of our relationship," he adds with a smile.

"Excellent," Bradley smiles back, nodding again, feeling much comforted by the whole conversation, by the prospect of a contract, by everything. "I like that part too. I'm sure the people who live at your club, whose lives are all this, all the time, that's quite all right for them and makes them happy. But I need things like this; having lunch at the market, playing football, bringing you to the set someday to see the wild costumes, all those things." He squeezes Louis's fingers. "Of course, I'm just now realizing that I need all those things we do in your flat, too." The weight of the cage between his legs is a constant, steady reminder of what their private interactions are like, and he feels his cock try to get hard, again, just remembering. Now that one hunger's been satisfied, the other is rising, and he's reminded rather sharply that he hadn't been permitted to come, earlier. He shifts, wincing, as his erection is blocked by cool, smooth plastic.

Louis smiles, catching that shift, that tell-tale wince. "We should get our things for dinner," he says, draining the last of his cider. "And then I'm sure I could come up with something else for us to try." Eyes crinkling at their corners.

Bradley groans out loud at that. Knowing he's going to be taken right to the edge of insanity again. Craving it anyway. "I like it, how it feels, I know I told you before, but I meant to ask why," he says softly. "I mean. I'm not coming. I'm not even allowed, there's no chance, but I love it. Even more than without. It felt so good, like it was right, somehow, even though it nearly made me run mad." He laughs a little. "I know you said I'll adjust, but I can't imagine it."

"Not completely," Louis says, giving Bradley's hand a last squeeze before letting go, "but it won't feel like it's driving you mad all the time. Only when I'm tormenting you or you're thinking about sex..." He grins. "As for the why - it's because it makes everything that much more intense. When you remove the ability to get hard, to come, it becomes all about the actual act, about being touched, fucked, not just the act as a means of getting to come."

"I think about sex *all the time*," Bradley groans, but he's smiling at the same time, Louis's explanation touching a chord inside him. "And it's about you, instead of me, when it's like that. I love that. Being that, for you, so it's about you feeling good and I'm just a..." he struggles, again, to find the words. "Something that makes you feel good, come, like that. It's fantastic, that feeling. Giving that up, I mean, because it's for *you,* not just for no reason."

"See? And that's what makes you a good submissive, my good boy," Louis says as they stand, collecting the garbage from their table. "Your first desire is please me, to serve my needs." He smiles at Bradley, wishing he could kiss him right here.

The 'my good boy,' said so casually and with that smile and that look, bring a bright flush of pleasure to Bradley's cheeks, and his eyes sparkle with pleasure. Though it's a tiny bit embarrassing to have it laid out so boldly like that, it's only the truth, and he can't argue with that. "And to think, a month ago I'd no idea of any of it," he muses, following Louis closely. "I just knew I liked a spanking now and then, a bit of rough, and adored getting fucked after I'd already come."

"You didn't have anyone to show you differently," Louis says, dumping their lunch wrappers in the nearby bin and heading for his favourite butcher's stall. "In fact, it actually sounds like you only had people who made you feel self-conscious about your desires. But you're not the only one to take a few years to figure it out or not know until they meet the right person. We have lots of members like that. People are very strange about sex, and they're even stranger about it when their desires don't conform to the so-called norm."

"I suppose it's all in who you meet and what you've learned," Bradley shrugs. "I'm just glad I learned it before I got married or something. It must be awful to go your whole life, not knowing what you're missing but knowing *something* isn't quite right." He thinks about it as they walk. "After how amazing this has been, I don't know that I could go back. Into a so-called normal sex life, like you said. It just. I'm not wired like that, somehow."

"Neither am I," Louis says, standing them in line at the stall. "My parents have already accepted there will be no heir to their fortune after me, no one to take over the manor. I think they're just hoping I'll find someone who makes me happy at this point."

"My sister's engaged and is looking forward to a houseful of kids, and I'm going to be delighted just to be their Uncle Bradley who spoils them rotten," Bradley agrees. "If your father is involved in the business, though..." he thinks about that and then wrinkles his nose. "Oh no, I could *not* handle my parents knowing that much about my sex life! No way!"

Louis laughs loudly. "It works the other way around as well, you know," he tells Bradley, punching him gently on the shoulder. "My parents were members long before I was, and my grandparents and great-grandparents." He sighs. "I didn't have a hope."

"You're *genetically* kinky," Bradley crows, delighted. "Oh my god, you really are. It must be inherited, right?" He punches back playfully, dancing out of reach right afterwards. "Either way, ew, far too much information going both ways, really. Surely though, if you want a kid, you've the resources available? A surrogate, or something? There's all sorts of possibilities out there. Especially if you *do* meet someone who makes you happy."

"Do you want children?" Louis asks.

"Dunno," Bradley shrugs. "Haven't thought about it really, with my school, and work, and all. I think so, possibly, if everything were to turn out right for it. I've always liked my little cousins, playing with them and all. Didn't even mind changing the dirty nappies."

"There you go. If we have children, you can be the one to change their diapers," Louis teases, thankful they're next in line. He greets the butcher and asks for a good hunk of bacon and several pounds of stew beef, chopped into chunks, before turning back to Bradley, still slightly stunned, the conversation having taken a turn he never would have expected. And surprised to find himself suddenly considering something he hasn't in years. Children. A family of his own. He shakes his head a little. "Um..."

Bradley blinks at Louis, unsure why he's suddenly so clearly discomfited. Maybe he recognized someone behind the counter at the butcher shop? He mentally shrugs it off; Louis has his beef for supper, so it's clearly time to head back to the flat. Something he's looking forward to for all sorts of reasons. "So," he says brightly, as Louis continues to look like he's forgotten the English language. "Back to yours, then? Or do we make more stops for your beef bourg...burg...the beef thing you're making?"

Louis gives himself another shake. Merde. "Bourguignon, and no, I need, um, mushrooms and onions. I think I have everything else," he says, packages tucked under his arm, as they head for the next stall selling fresh vegetables. ^A half kilogram of the button mushrooms and the same of the small yellow onions,^ he tells the young woman behind the table who's eyeing them both.

"I'm awfully glad we just ate," Bradley murmurs from Louis's elbow, still hiding a little behind him but easily able to see around his arm. He eyes all the delicious things laid out and sighs. "I've got to bring my friends here some weekend. They'd clear out every shop, nearly, just making up for all the catering food we eat. As it is I'm going to be running a few extra miles in the morning." It's no burden and it's definitely worth it.

"I'm sure I can help you burn some of it off," Louis says quietly, making sure his words are for Bradley and Bradley alone as the young woman fills two brown paper bags, carefully weighing each one.

With a little shiver, Bradley meets Louis's eyes, gets his meaning loud and clear. He presses a little closer, discreetly. "We really can't get back soon enough," he decides out loud, knowing that Louis will be able to hear even though he keeps his voice low.

Louis nods. "I want you naked the moment we get upstairs," he whispers, lips brushing against Bradley's ear. "And on your knees for me."

continued here....

[feedback welcome. comments screened]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): Weekend, Part I

jennandanica@gmail.com — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 19:46:26 GMT

players only. takes place the day after Louis confesses about his work and Citadel.

It's a Saturday. Saturdays, Bradley thinks, especially in France where the unions mandate no work for two straight days, are a blessing from above, a real gift of the gods. He's slept himself out after the late shoot last night (to make up for his sick day, he'd been reminded pointedly, though he hadn't protested), woke up late, lazed about the hotel room, had breakfast with Angel and gossiped a bit, and heard about the cancellation of the weekly game (too much rain, and too much wine last night for both goalkeepers).

Now he's driving through the French countryside, misted by the low clouds and occasionally wet by a light autumn rain. It's beautiful like this, too, he thinks as he makes his way into Sarlat. Quieter, more peaceful. And he has much less trouble finding parking.

As he knocks at the door--he has his key, but he sees lights on, and he won't just barge into another man's flat--he feels a flutter of nerves in his stomach. He hasn't seen Louis since that fateful morning conversation, the day before. He's had a chance to process things, think them over, turn them round and round in his mind. He thinks...he thinks he's okay with it. But he can't be sure, can't be truly comfortable, until he spends more time with Louis, with this new knowledge, makes sure it all fits together with what they'd been building before.

The knock at the door comes as Louis is shutting down his laptop and he smiles at the timing. Stretching out his shoulders, his t-shirt lifting, flash of bare skin revealed above his jeans, he shoves in his chair and rambles down the stairs, pulling the door open with wide, easy grin. "Bonjour. How are you this morning?" he asks, kissing him with just the right amount of pressure. So good to see you, not I'm going to pin you to the door and... At least not until he makes sure things are okay between them.

Bradley's been doing so much *thinking* that the simple physicality of the kiss is a huge relief. He sighs into it, smiling against Louis's mouth, getting his hands on the warm, smooth skin of Louis's waist. It's fast becoming one of his favorite places to touch. It's a marvelous kiss, gentle but sexy, and when they break away he's still smiling.

"I'm good. I slept myself right out, after yesterday's marathon shoot." He tucks his hands into the back pockets of Louis's jeans, charmed by the casual wear he's sporting, such a delicious change after his usual suits and tailored shirts. "You look fantastic." He does, too, like he's gotten some rest as well, and not stressed like he'd been--even as they parted on good terms--the day before.

"Thank you. I got a good night's sleep as well," Louis says, smiling down at Bradley, who looks as beautiful as always. "And I managed to get on top of all my paperwork, well, emails and all that, just now, as you knocked."

Bradley laughs at that, pushing a little with his hips, getting them in the door before Louis does anything truly indecent to him. "That *is* a miracle," he teases, already having seen Louis's workaholic tendencies, watching him reach for his phone or his laptop even at very late hours. "And you managed to sleep, too? What on earth will you do with the rest of your day?" His grin is sunny, brilliant, and all the shadows are gone from under his eyes as he looks up at Louis.

"Whatever my gorgeous boyfriend wants, unless he doesn't have any idea, in which case, I think there was some ravishing promised the other day," Louis teases, moving them slowly up the stairs, step by step.

"That's right," Bradley pretends to think hard. "I *do* remember there being ravishment promised. And since my own gorgeous boyfriend is offering, well, I can't imagine anything better on a beautiful rainy Saturday like this one." He's been dreaming about that big bed, Louis's hard body and firm hands and solid, gorgeous cock, and there's no better way to spend a rainy weekend than in bed. In his opinion anyway.

"What sort of ravishing did you have in mind?" he asks curiously, following Louis up the steps, never letting go of him.

"That depends," Louis answers as they reach the loft above. "How do you feel about experimenting a little more?" Back, strangely enough, to his carefulness of their first night together. Unsure how Bradley knowing what he does will affect the way they interact.

"I think it's a completely great idea," Bradley says honestly, his pupils already starting to dilate. Here, doing this, they click so well. In sync, with Louis reading his body and his face and his needs as if they'd been written out in large type for him. No jobs, or conflicts, or hard questions: just the two of them, naked. Louis teaching him about his own needs and desires in the most primal way possible. He steps even closer, pressing their bodies together, reading hesitation in Louis's face. "Show me more, yeah?"

"Tell me what interested you in the book," Louis urges, pulling Bradley's jersey over his head and tossing it in the direction of the couch on the far side of the room, his hands back on Bradley's hips, on the skin above his jeans in an instant, thumbs stroking over his hipbones.

There'd been an awful lot of interesting things in that book, and Bradley's blood is already flowing southwards, slowing his brain down more than a little. Louis's hands on his hips are horribly distracting as well. "So many things," he moans. It had described a few things, and hinted at so many more. "C-cock cages. Um. Crawling. Clamps on my cock, and balls and hole. Leashes and collars? " There had been something called "sounds" but he couldn't quite work it out from how the book had described it. "So much was interesting and I didn't know, don't know, which would be better. I know the spanking was brilliant." His cheeks flush pink at that admission. "And, and when you hit my cock. That was so good."

Louis nods, a plan slowly forming, borne out of Bradley's desires. "Stay right here," he says, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He walks to the nightstand and picks out the few things he wants, palming them in his hand, then goes to the couch, settling in the middle and leaning back against the cushions, his legs spread. "Take the rest of your clothes off."

Almost shaking with curiosity and desire, Bradley nods and eagerly strips out of the rest of his clothing, his jeans folded (for once) and set on top of his shoes, out of harm's way. When he's naked, he moves closer to Louis, almost between his knees, not quite certain of what he should do. Looking to Louis for direction, guidance. *Control*, his subconscious whispers, and he accepts it as the truth as he starts to settle into his role, here, like this.

"On your knees," Louis orders, softly, firmly, his cock already starting to fill, the sight of Bradley naked igniting his lust.

There's a hard little undertone in Louis's voice that wasn't there before. It has a prickle of sweat starting across Bradley's shoulders as he nods, then gets down to his knees, only a little awkwardly. All the movement classes in drama school have taught him control of his body, and he kneels in perfect balance, spine straight as an arrow, shoulders square. He can't help but notice that Louis's spread legs are right there, right in front of him, perfect for him to lean in and nuzzle his cock...but he won't do that, he reminds himself. Not until he's invited. It's strange, waiting for directions instead of just going for it, but as he settles into it, he finds it wonderful, freeing, exciting.

"Now touch yourself for me," Louis says, seriously impressed by Bradley's posture. "Slowly. Jerk yourself off but don't come."

Bradley reaches for himself eagerly. He's hard, almost fully stiff already. And he knows that he can do this, can keep himself from coming. He starts wanking himself the way he likes; fist just a little too tight for comfort, rubbing his palm over the crown on upstrokes. Focusing on how good it feels, how right it feels to be doing this, like this, Louis watching him with those *eyes*...his lips part a little, he flicks his tongue to wet them, and moans, just a soft little sound of pleasure.

His jeans tightening further, Louis matches that moan. "Very good. Now don't stop..." He picks out the alligator clamps from his small pile of treasures, letting Bradley see what he's got, while keeping the rest hidden for now, the end cushion pulled over them. He leans forward, using his thumbs and forefingers to stroke and pinch and pull on Bradley's nipples until they're red and stiff and standing out from his chest.

Bradley huffs a quick breath as Louis touches him, but keeps stroking himself as ordered, watching avidly as Louis rubs his nipples, peaking them up. He knows this, he reassures himself, he's felt this before, he knows how this goes. It's going to *hurt.* His cock leaps in his own fist at the thought, and he bites his own bottom lip, sharp white teeth leaving a dent there as he tries to brace himself.

"You like this, don't you?" Louis says softly, placing one clamp and then the other in rapid succession.

Sucking air in past his teeth, hissing, Bradley's back arches instinctively away from the knife-sharp bite of the clamps, one-two, but he's back erect in a heartbeat, belly tightened with heat, the heat that's tickling through him, setting his nerves on fire, making everything spark clear and sharp and clean. "I do," he grits out, mind starting to sink, down and down into that addictive, sweet place in his mind.

"And you might like this even better," Louis says casually, pulling the thick silver ring from out under the cushion. "It looks like a cock ring, doesn't it? But it's not. It's a ball stretcher."

Bradley's hand almost stops its gentle stroking of his own cock as he stares at the silver ring. "It's...I don't know what..." he trails off as an incautious move causes the clamps to burn him again, and has to take a moment to breathe. He doesn't know how it works, or what it does, but the heavy gleam of it in Louis's hand is fascinating and deliciously scary.

"You'll see," Louis promises, his cock giving a sharp jerk at the look on Bradley's face. He unsnaps the ring and, reaching down and taking Bradley's balls in hand, careful not to disturb his strokes, snaps it around them, forcing them to the bottom of his sac. "There, how does that feel?" he asks, letting his hand rest on the stretcher for a moment, emphasizing the weight.

"Heavy," Bradley says softly, surprised, squirming a little as he feels the weight start to pull on the soft, vulnerable skin of his sac. It's a strange feeling, his testicles fully pulled down, aching a little already from the stretch, his skin almost feeling like it's getting sunburned. "Strange," he continues, hips twisting again, trying to get used to it, even as it gets a little more intense every minute.

"Strange," Louis murmurs, nodding, eyes sparkling, enjoying the way Bradley shifts, as though he might ease the stretch. "I have two more things for you," he says. "Last ones." Holding up two teardrop ball weights.

"What are those?" Bradley's hand on his cock has slowed to just petting, now, as he's distracted and fascinated by what Louis is doing to him. He sees the hook on the gleaming steel weights and realizes what they're for. "Oh my god," he says faintly, realizing. "That's...oh my god, those look heavy."

"They are," Louis says simply. "And you've slowed down," he points out, saying nothing more while he fastens a weight to each hook on the sides of the stretcher, keeping his palm under them for a moment. "Ready?" But he doesn't wait for an answer. He drops his hand, letting Bradley's balls take the full weight.

"Oh!" Bradley tips forward, not even realizing it, hips buckling a bit as he instinctively drops, trying to compensate for the weight suddenly pulling hard at all the skin and muscles in his groin, a strange, hot, dragging feeling that feels very much like the ache just before the contractions of an orgasm. He's panting a little, swaying on his knees, struggling to keep his hands away from there, to not just reach down and support his sac, lift it away from that painful, burning, swinging weight. It's not sharp, but rather a deep, throbbing ache. "Oh," he says more quietly, trying to straighten up. His cock is rigid, burning in his palm. He strokes it mindlessly, barely even feeling it now, all his attention elsewhere.

"You're doing well," Louis says, sitting back and watching Bradley try to adjust, his cock straining against his jeans now, aching to be touched, for friction of any sort. "Very well. I want you to speed up though. Get yourself close, really close, but don't come. Let me know when you're there."

Bradley looks at Louis, a little helplessly. He's not sure how he's to know, how he's to stop himself, but he's going to do his best for Louis. Try as best he can, though he's never timed himself, never really held himself back from coming on purpose before, especially not with such provocation.

"I...yes, okay, I can do this, I can," he mutters, mostly to himself, closing his eyes and licking his lips, concentrating on how he feels. He speeds his hand up on his cock. There's no lube and the friction is tight and rough, and he works himself hard, wincing and whimpering a little when every move he makes swings the weights attached to the ring, dragging the tender skin even further. His sac feels stretched, hot, delicate, like any touch could crack the skin like paper. Thinking of that, it's surprisingly easy to bring himself closer and closer to the edge of orgasm.

Louis smiles, loving the way Bradley talks to himself, the earnestness and willingness with which he approaches the task. "Yes, you can," he says, giving in and rubbing a hand over his own cock, easing the ache through his jeans. "I have faith in you."

His balls are trying to draw up, close to his body, in preparation for orgasm. The cramping strain as the muscles pull against the weights has Bradley gasping, swaying a little again, but Louis's warm voice, his words, seeing him touch himself, so clearly turned on by this...it focuses him again.

His mouth is as dry as the desert as he drags his vision up from Louis's hand, his crotch, and meets Louis's eyes with his own blurred, unfocused ones. "Close," he confesses, voice hoarse and low. A few more strokes and he'll be coming, the ache in his testicles just pushing him closer to the edge.

"Good. You can stop," Louis tells him, waiting for Bradley's reaction to the order.

Startled, Bradley takes a long moment, two strokes of his hand, before even really registering what Louis has said. He slowly stops moving, blinking in confusion at Louis. "S-stop?" he questions, unsure, hand still curled around his aching cock. "Stop everything?"

"Stop touching yourself," Louis says firmly, eyeing Bradley's hand. "Now."

Jumping at the snap in Louis's tone, the growl of authority in the command, Bradley jerks his hand from his cock, eyes huge in his face as he watches Louis. That tone, the order, it sends him even deeper into subspace, and he nearly purrs, even as he *aches* from the frustration of unfulfilled orgasm.

"Good." Louis takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his cock throbbing at the way Bradley responds. At those blue eyes staring at him, wide, vulnerable, hurting, and obviously craving more. "I want you to turn around and crawl to the top of stairs."

Bradley is completely off-balance now, and it's keeping him from getting comfortable, complacent, or in any way losing focus from Louis. He swallows heavily as he nods obediently, and carefully goes down to his hands and knees.

The weights swing as he turns and he freezes, then moves again, more slowly, delicately, shocked by the feelings shivering through him, the ache in his balls tightening his whole pelvis. The first few hand-knee movements are torture, the weights slapping against his inner thighs, bringing little murmurs from him--"no, not like that, keep going, okay, okay"-- until he settles into a swaying crawl that takes him slowly but surely to the top of the stairs, as ordered, without too much extra stimulation.

Mon dieu. Bradley looks so good like that, crawling across the floor, his balls hanging low, cock red, hard, leaking at the tip, his still-reddened hole visible between his cheeks as he moves forward. "And back again," Louis calls out, shifting in his seat.

Gritting his teeth, keeping the two or three choice curses behind his tongue, Bradley turns, and, just as carefully, moves back towards Louis. It's strange being down here at floor level, but quite hot, too, knowing that Louis is watching him, knowing that he's down here on the floor. Low and humble and small, and once he realizes that he sighs out some last lingering tension and his crawl becomes something much closer to a cat-like slink.

"Beautiful," Louis praises, motioning for Bradley to move between his thighs. "I think you've done very well," he says, his plans suddenly changing again, unwilling to wait to have his own needs satisfied. "You might even deserve a reward. Would you like that?"

Bradley gratefully moves between Louis's legs, up on his knees again--they're starting to get a bit sore, all that hardwood--and leaning into Louis's lap, smiling up at him in pleasure at his praise. "Yes, please yes," he answers, quiet but eager, careful hands running up and down Louis's thighs, rubbing the denim, wishing it was skin he was touching.

Touching him already, without permission, is something a trained boy would never do. But Bradley's not trained, a fact for which Louis is strangely grateful. He likes that Bradley craves his closeness, his touch, this level of intimacy. That everything about his reactions is so eager and natural. He gestures at his lap. "Get my zipper open and my cock out and you can give me your mouth," he says softly, "but you're not to use your hands. For any of it."

Bradley looks at the jeans with some trepidation, the zip and button there. He is glad, yet again, that he has very flexible lips and a very long and dextrous tongue. Nodding to himself firmly, he takes a deep breath and dives in after his prize.

If he rubs his face a little too much against the hot ridge of Louis's cock while he's tonguing the button open, if he mouths that same ridge while 'looking' for the zipper, even chewing lightly at it through the denim, well, who can blame him?

Finding himself reaching, he puts his hands behind his back, like a scolded schoolboy. And when the zipper is finally down, and he can see the silky-hard column behind the jeans, his mouth is literally *watering*. He's forgotten about the weights except as a tickling distraction on the edge of his thoughts, is ignoring his own arousal completely. He gets his mouth around Louis's cock, sucks it in, pulls it out of his jeans, freeing it only to take it in again. Delicious.

Louis is groaning even before Bradley frees his cock, his hands curling into fists as he resists the urge to bury them in Bradley's hair, press his face tighter into his groin. "Yes. That's it," he breathes, watching Bradley work, watching him nuzzle into his jeans, ease him free from the denim. Another ragged groan spilling from his lips as the wet heat of Bradley's mouth surrounds him. "Good boy."

Those words; Bradley's starting to think they're magic, the way Louis purrs them, the way they go straight to his cock, his heart, his brain, warming and arousing all three. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, off balance just a bit with his hands behind him, but balancing himself with the suction and grip of his lips wrapped tightly about the shaft he's working with everything he has.

It's hard, rigid, every ridge and vein standing out against the strokes of his tongue, and he closes his eyes, reveling in the task, adoring every taste he gets of Louis.

"Ohhh... you have the most incredible mouth," Louis whispers, sliding his hands into Bradley's hair, and running his fingers through the soft wayward strands before cupping the back of his skull and pushing up, pushing deeper, his breath catching, his orgasm suddenly that close.

Suddenly Bradley's knocked out of his pace, Louis's hands forcing him into Louis's pace, his rhythm, his depth. Bradley fights not to choke before he relaxes his throat, breathes carefully through his nose, and eases into the way Louis is fucking his mouth, now. Hands strong and hard on his head, in his hair, and he loves his hair pulled, has he told Louis that yet? Possibly not but he's doing it anyway, he's brilliant like that, and his cock is chokingly huge and solid and hot in Bradley's throat.

He swallows convulsively, and again, and Louis's cockhead is in his throat, tight and snug. He hasn't deepthroated in ages but his body remembers the trick of it, and ruthlessly shuts down his gag reflex.

"Ohhh..." Louis groans again, cursing under his breath, his hips stuttering, Bradley's nose pressed tight to his groin as he thrusts even harder, unable to check the force before he comes, so hard his vision goes black with it, flooding Bradley's throat.

The drawback of deepthroating is that Bradley doesn't get to taste Louis's come. But he does get the delicious feeling of his cock swelling in his throat, rippling with the pulses of his orgasm. He holds on, breathing harshly through his nose, riding it until the contractions slow, then stop.

He gently pulls back, careful of sensitive skin, and gives Louis's cock a last, loving lick as it pops free of his mouth.

"Mm. Tres bien," Louis murmurs, smiling, cupping Bradley's cheek for a moment. "It would seem that one reward deserves another."

"I thought that was the reward," Bradley rasps, then clears his throat. He turns his cheek into Louis's palm, looking for more petting.

"It was, but you haven't come yet," Louis points out, happily continuing to caress Bradley. "Of course, I could always make you wait until later. Leave you like this for a while... and then rim you until you come."

Wordlessly, Bradley shivers, full-body. "If, if you like?" he offers. He doesn't know the protocols, doesn't know the right language. Just knows that he wants Louis to decide, to control every moment of this, when he comes and how.

"Then that's what we'll do," Louis says, leaning forward to kiss Bradley softly on the mouth, his tongue sweeping between his lips, gathering the sweet taste of him. "If you can manage to get up here, you can put your head on my lap and we'll watch some television and talk."

There's no protest in Bradley, only acceptance. He smiles up at Louis, pupils still blown wide, after the kiss, and then crawls--so, so carefully--up onto the couch. His cock is rigid, leaking, but he's not paying any attention to it; instead, he curls up close to Louis's side, curls an arm over Louis's thigh, and pillows his head next to his hand. Utterly content in this moment just to be close, to be under Louis's hand and his control, to have given it all over to him.

Louis smiles, watching Bradley get settled. He's completely taken with the man, with the boy, and unbelievably grateful that he's been given another chance. Has not lost Bradley's trust. "You make me very happy," he whispers, running his fingers gently through Bradley's hair.

"I should be throwing a right fit at the moment," Bradley chuffs a little laugh into Louis's thigh. Loving the fingers in his hair. "If a year ago someone had told me, 'no, Bradley, you shan't come now, you've got to wait until later,' I'd have laughed myself silly. But...but it feels so good when you do it." His voice goes softer and more vulnerable at the end.

"Well, it's definitely a kink of mine," Louis says, putting a name to it. "Orgasm denial." He smiles. "How would you feel if I controlled that - your right to come, to touch yourself sexually, when you weren't with me?" It's a big step and one Bradley may not be ready for yet.

Bradley struggles to understand exactly what Louis means, still deep in subspace. "You mean...all the time," he says slowly, out loud. "Even when I'm home alone? I couldn't just have my regular morning wank in the shower, without ringing you up to ask first?" He thinks it's...it's wild, and strangely intriguing. His cock hasn't softened even a little bit, all this time, and this idea isn't hurting his arousal any.

"Yes, or texting me," Louis says with a small chuckle, knowing how Bradley hates phones.

"Really?" Bradley lifts his head and stares at Louis. He turns the idea over and over, examining it from every side. "It would be like...they were yours, and I had to ask permission to use them. The orgasms, I mean. And you'd know every time I was touching myself at all." It's got a little knot of heat growing in his belly. "You'd get to say. But, but what if I just wanked anyway? Or forgot? and what about when you're gone for ages, like last week in New York?" He's brim-full with questions on how this would actually work.

"If you didn't have wardrobe to worry about, I'd put you in a cock cage, with a certain number of locks and make you account for them," Louis says. "But since that's out of the question, I'd have to trust you, that you'd abide by my rule." He smiles. "As for my being away, there's nothing to stop you from texting me in New York."

"Fucking wardrobe," Bradley grumbles. His heartbeat had rabbited up at the thought of the cage, something he'd googled as soon as Louis had mentioned it the first time, and which he'd been fantasizing about ever since. He's always been at the mercy of his cock, somewhat; his schoolmates had always been after him for being oversexed, and even his boyfriends hadn't been able to keep up. He'd taken some heat for that as well. And his cock getting hard? Always in the worst possible moments. Like he's still a bloody teenager or something.

The idea of Louis controlling that, keeping it under lock and key, is powerfully appealing.

"I want the cage," he says, almost piteously, not noticing from his headspace that he's nudging into Louis's thigh for comfort. "I've wanted it since I found out it existed. It's not fair."

"I can put you in one on the weekends," Louis says, hand sliding down, over Bradley's shoulder to play with the clamps on his nipples. "Deny you until Sunday afternoon. Unless you want to take your chances on set? They're not huge, men wear them under their clothes and suits all the time, but yes, if someone were to brush against it, or you were to strip down, there's no hiding it."

Bradley hisses as Louis wakes up nerve endings that have gone numb from having the clamps on so long, and twists a little with the spike of pain that rushes through him, warming him. "I want to...I want to try it, I think, maybe on the weekend first? Just to see? And I can check the shooting schedule and see if there're costume changes. I can...I could take it off, right? If it was an emergency. Like that. Run to the washroom. That sort of thing?"

He looks up at Louis with wide, pleading eyes. He doesn't even understand why he's craving this so much, but he is, it's an ache and a twist inside him, he wants it, and wants it badly. Even just to try it.

"Of course. I told you you'd have to account for the locks so you'd need to make note that it was a emergency and why, but that would be fine," Louis says, his still softening cock giving a rebellious jerk. "And maybe later today, after you've come, since I promised I'd let you, we can see about putting you in one for the rest of the weekend?"

Bradley shudders, closing his eyes. He's only read about this, looking it up online after Louis had mentioned it, then turning straight to this section in his BDSM book. Control over his cock. His erections. His orgasms. He can only imagine what it will feel like. His aching cock leaks a little, where it's resting on his thigh, and he squirms and moans.

"I've never...I can't...I've always been the one with the awkward hard-on," he mumbles to Louis. "Always the oversexed one. Can't keep it down, couldn't stop myself coming if you paid me...but this, god. Yours. They'd be yours now. Right?"

"Yes," Louis nods, leaning to slide his fingers lower, trail them over Bradley's cock, and under, stroking over his balls, tight and trapped in their sac. "They'd be mine. And if you couldn't account for the locks, didn't text me, or call me, there would be consequences."

Even the lightest of touches is incredibly intense on the drum-tight, straining skin of his scrotum, and Bradley whines high in his throat, squirming even more, as Louis pets him there. He lifts one knee, giving Louis access, his eyes wide and nearly glazed over. Body, by instinct, opening itself to Louis, wherever he wants to touch.

"Consequences," he says, almost dreamily. Not really processing much right now, not in detail. The little, awake part of his brain reminds him that he's utter pants at impulse control, but he ignores it. "What sorts of consequences?"

"Punishment," Louis says casually, softly, rubbing over the drawn skin, teasing the weight and setting them to swinging. "I'm not sure what kind yet. I haven't discovered what you don't like."

"Hmmmm," Bradley says, focusing more on the weights than on Louis's words. Punishment doesn't sound too bad, not when Louis is keeping him on the razor's edge of orgasm like this, toying with him, playing with him like someone with a pricey new gadget.

It's nearly overwhelming and Bradley turns his face into Louis's leg, breath starting to come in choked, short little gasps as his cock jerks, jumps, leaks pre-come on the couch and on his own skin.

"I'm not even sure you need my mouth," Louis murmurs, continuing to touch, stroke, caress, nails dragged over the soft tight skin in between, his fingers sliding further back to rub over Bradley's hole as he spreads his legs for him. "I would bet you could come like this."

"I think, yes, probably," Bradley breathes, eyes closed, rocking a little up into the touch as Louis's fingers rub and tickle at his hole, the exquisitely tight and painful skin of his sac, thrumming like a drum whenever Louis touches it. And when his nails scratch lightly, Bradley cries out softly, back arching at the bolt of pleasure that explodes through him.

"There. You like that, don't you?" Louis murmurs, scraping his nails a little harder over the skin, his hand brushing against the weights, increasing the pressure, his fingers back and forth between balls and hole, one dry finger working its way in, just the tip, fucking Bradley a little.

"Oh...oh..." Bradley gasps as those nails score him a little more sharply. As he feels the weight of the stretcher pulled even more tightly, and as the fingertip pushes in through the clenched tightness of his hole. He squirms tightly, hips working as he tries to get himself there, closing his eyes and focusing on the pain. He's close, so close...

"I'm going to take off the clamps," Louis warns, his finger pushing deeper as he removes them quickly with his other hand, one, two, no time to adjust in between. Then again, it's better this way.

Like a plaster being ripped off fast, there's a moment where Bradley doesn't feel anything at all. Then it SLAMS into him, like a bat to the head, hitting him with a solid punch of pain and endorphins combined that has him screaming, arching up, twisting away. Coming. Long, agonizing pulses, more intense, from the waiting, than anything he's ever felt. The orgasm itself is painful and therefore the most sublime pleasure he's experienced ever.

His mind whites out with it. It feels like he's coming forever, pulse after pulse, unconscious of anything but what he's feeling and the sensations screaming through his nervous system.

Muscle spasming, Bradley's body works to force Louis's finger out but he holds his hand steady, pushing past the resistance, fucking him slowly through his orgasm. His other arm wraps around Bradley's chest, holding him close, keeping him from harm as he thrashes and lashes out, trying to get away from the pain at the same as his body embraces it, white lines spattering his thighs, the couch and the floor in front of them. "Good boy," Louis praises. "That's it. Let it all go."

Louis's insistent finger gives his inner muscles something to push against, prolonging his orgasm, keeping the contractions going longer than they've ever done before. By the time the last pulse washes through him, Bradley is breathing as heavily as if he'd been running, chest heaving, eyes stinging with sweat and tears. He can't feel his fingertips or his toes, he's so completely wrung out, and Louis's arm around him is the best, safest thing in the world.

He rests, trying to catch his breath. His nipples are burning hot, his sac is aching and taut and sensitive to every move, his whole skin is buzzing. Images, thoughts are racing through his unfocused mind too quickly for him to concentrate on, so he fixes his attention on Louis's hand. Twines their fingers together, palm to palm, and squeezes.

Louis squeezes back, dropping a kiss on Bradley's shoulder and easing his finger from his body. He reaches over, unfastens the weights from the stretcher and sets them aside. He still needs to remove the stretcher itself but that can wait for the moment, especially since Bradley's lying down and there's no additional pressure on his balls. "That was amazing," he says softly, sitting back a little, content to simply rest for a few minutes and let Bradley recover. "You looked so beautiful when you were crawling, and when you were on your knees for me." Not that there's ever a moment Bradley doesn't look beautiful, but Louis thinks it still worth saying.

Bradley's fairly used to compliments, and though he's not all that vain, he's not unaware of how he looks. But something about this situation, the way Louis has stripped him so bare and raw and vulnerable, has him flushing a slow, hot red at Louis's words. Looking away, tongue-tied, almost shy. Smiling down at his own hands, even as he struggles to get his breathing back to normal, process the slow return to normality. He's curled against Louis, safe, held close, sheltered while he's still dreamy with the endorphins and the post-orgasm bliss.

"You were amazing," he finally replies quietly, when his words come back. "That was brilliant."

"I'm glad you think so." Louis smiles. He shifts them both a little and reaches for a tissue, wiping down Bradley's thighs and the couch where he can reach. He'll get the floor later. "Let's get you moved to the bed and I'll take the stretcher off," he says, helping Bradley up, his cellphone picked up from the table as they pass. "I have a quick call to make once you're settled," he adds, seeing Bradley into bed, fingers nimbly unsnapping the stretcher and easing it from the tightly swollen skin. There's water bottles on the nightstand, kept cold in an ice bucket, and he dries one off on his jeans and cracks it open, handing it over.

A little dazed, Bradley moves where Louis guides him, and before he knows it he's tucked into bed, the heavy silver ring taken off him, and he's sipping cold water from a bottle, letting it soak into his dry mouth, rolling it over his tongue like fine wine before swallowing.

He blinks at Louis and his phone. "Coming back to bed after the call?" he asks carefully, wondering if he's going to get more kisses and petting .

"I can make it from here," Louis says, settling on the bed beside Bradley, one arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close. He presses speed-dial two and gets the Citadel switchboard at Sarlat. Asks to be put through to the boutique and then to speak to Marcel, the manager there. "Bonjour, Marcel. C'est Louis. Comment ca va?" They exchange the usual pleasantries and then he gets down to business. ^I need a delivery to my place in Sarlat. Yes. Yes. As soon as possible. I need a cock cage, plastic, medium-to-large, with spacers, and a hundred locks to start. Four sets of twenty-five. And some of that hair removal cream. Yes, the kind for cock and balls. What else?^ He smiles down at Bradley, his cock jerking lightly again. Mon dieu.

The call is clearly to someone Louis knows; Bradley can tell from the light, casual tone of his voice, though he can't understand a word. And even though Louis is still wearing his jeans, they're completely undone and Bradley can see the little jump of his cock at *something* he's saying. So it's something sexy, and good. Dammit, Bradley really needs to learn more French, and quickly.

"I need a tutor," he grumbles to himself, curling closer to Louis, who has far too much clothing on. He worms his hands under Louis's shirt, getting his hands on warm, smooth skin, stroking and luxuriating in being so close.

Louis bites back a soft groan, carding his fingers through Bradley's hair as he switches the phone to his other ear. ^One of the pads we use for kneeling. One of those large black dildos with the suction base. Not the largest. The medium size. And give me a few different penis plugs. On the smaller side, for a beginner, and... I think that's it. For now... Can I get you to wrap the cock cage and locks separately from the rest? Wonderful. An hour? Merci.^

"There, see, all done," Louis says, setting his phone on the nightstand.

Bradley chuckles a little. "You could've been ordering tomorrow night's supper for all I can tell," he says sleepily. He's not really tired, just comfortable and warm and utterly content. "I've been trying to work on my French but it's a lost cause really. I'm pants with languages." He thinks over all the things they've talked about, all the things Louis has told him.

"Is this...what we did, I mean...is this what you do with the, the employees? This sort of thing?" Is there this level of emotional intensity, he wants to know. Does Louis hold them like he's holding Bradley, so warm and close, like he'll never let go? He can't even decide how he feels about it, so his question comes out as simple curiosity, which it mostly is. Not jealousy, really. A little insecurity. Mostly just curious.

"Yes and no," Louis says after pondering the question for a moment. He chuckles softly, thinking about what they did, on his couch, his single finger fucking Bradley through his orgasm. "Technically, some of the things are the same. I have a boy crawl, or put a stretcher on him, fuck him with my fingers, or make use of his mouth, but there's a distance between us, always, that must be maintained. I'm their trainer, not their sir, not their Master, and it wouldn't do to have them fall for me or only be able to serve one person." He leans down, kissing the top of Bradley's head. "And there's always aftercare but it certainly doesn't feel the same way to me, so I doubt it does to them."

Bradley looks up at Louis, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "There's no way they don't fall for you," he declares. "I mean, just...the way you are, the way you're so amazing, with this and with everything else, too, how could they not? I bet they do and you just don't know it." He stretches his legs out, arching his back, getting all the kinks and cramps eased from his body. And he scratches his fingertips along Louis's sides, playfully, smiling against his thigh.

"Maybe," Louis allows, nodding, smiling and shifting a little as Bradley drags his nails over his skin. "It has happened before, but when it does, from their end, not mine," he insists, "I switch them to another trainer. Besides which, our trainees wear these wristbands that let everyone know they're available for use, so they're not only scening with the trainers for the whole six week period."

"Oh," Bradley processes this. "So they're with lots of people, not just you. I guess that makes sense, if they're going to be with lots of people when they're out of training afterwards." He looks up at Louis again, more seriously this time. "I know you said you don't date, that you're too busy with work and everything. Have you ever? I mean, had a relationship outside work, when you had this job? It's just. If you're with all those trainees all day and doing stuff with them...how do you have energy left over for someone else?" It's nice being in his post-scene haze, in a way...it frees his tongue, allows him to just blurt out all the questions that have been turning in his mind.

Louis nods. It's a fair question. "I was involved with someone for two years, a long time ago, and we're still friends. He's an in-house submissive and I did train him but we only became involved later on. He's been with us for about twelve years now." He exhales softly. "As for the other, I'm not training all the time - it's maybe a third of my duties - but if there was someone else, I would make time, I would make sure I had the energy. Besides," he adds with a smile, "as you might have guessed, I'm rather oversexed too."

Bradley has to chuff a little laugh at that. "I had noticed something like that," he admits. "And it's marvelous. I guess it comes in handy too, with things like this. I...am glad you've done it before, just because, otherwise, I'd be more worried about that, I guess? I mean, the last thing I'd want to be is some kind of obligation in bed, because you've already worn yourself out at work, something like that. But if it worked before, it should work again. That's just logic. Right?"

Louis laughs a little. "Yes, it should," he says, still petting Bradley. "But I can't imagine you ever being any sort of obligation."

"Mm hmm," Bradley says, closing his eyes and pushing up into Louis's petting hand, enjoying it with everything inside him. "As long as I don't get boring, hopefully. I don't think I'll get *bored,* but you'll have to tell me if the other way round happens." It's definitely a lingering insecurity, that with all that variety, the things he's imagining going on during this "training," that he'll dull by comparison.

"It's not all about the kink," Louis says, wanting to make sure Bradley knows that. "It's connecting with you on a different level than I do those other boys - sleeping with you, touching you like this." He smiles. "It's the time we spend together, before and after. As much as I love the sex we're having, as much as I love discovering new things with you, the rest of all of this, it's something I haven't really had before, not even with Stuart, or Adrian. Which doesn't mean I'm only interested in the 'relationship' parts. I get incredibly turned on by the idea of fucking you so hard you can barely sit or making you scream for me, tears running down your face as I slap your cock or twist the clamps from your chest," he pauses, hissing in a soft breath, his cock starting to fill again at the words, "but it's not everything, and none of it is anything I'm going to get bored of. Trust me," he adds with grin.

Bradley watches and listens, riveted, as the words pour out of Louis. Clearly sincere, clearly from the heart, and exactly what he needs to hear right now. That he *is* special, not just one among many, that there's something here that's worth pursuing, and not just on his side.

And he notices the way Louis reacts to even mentioning the things they do together. He feels a tightening in his own belly, his mouth go a little dry. He reaches and takes Louis's hand, holding tight.

"I don't even have the words to talk about the stuff we do together yet, not really, though I'm learning," he confesses, eyes meeting Louis's. "But that, what you said, about all of it...yes. Yeah, I'm there, too. I've had good sex--none this good, granted--and good relationships. This is, we have, I mean, obviously we're not there yet," he laughs at his own incoherence. "You know what I mean. It's early days yet, but I get this little tingle when I think about spending time with you, and not just in bed. I get excited just thinking about going to dinner with you."

"Then it sounds like we're of the same mind," Louis says, giving Bradley's hand a gentle squeeze. "And as long as we keep communicating, that should continue." He smiles. "Speaking of which - when you're ready - not tonight, of course - we could go to the castle for dinner. If you're interested. It's not something we have to do, but you are welcome to visit with me and see what it's like."

Bradley's not ashamed to admit that he's been wildly curious, since getting past that first shock of hearing what Louis's job actually is. He nods firmly. "That would be great. I'd love to see it...more than the back entrance and your office, that is," he grins up at Louis at that. "Is it okay with the people there? I mean, would I see people just...doing their thing? The stuff they go there to do? Could I meet some of the staff, too?" He's getting more and more animated and excited at the idea. "Maybe you could show me some of the training things. Rooms. Whatever you've got around, you know."

Louis nods, smiling at Bradley's enthusiasm. "I'd be more than happy to give you the full tour, but yes, you'll see members doing their thing, as you say. In various stages of undress, fucking their boys or girls in the open, hand feeding them in the dining room. You'll need to be careful not to say anything... judgemental about what they're doing. Or at least wait until we're alone, back in my quarters, or here." He pauses for a moment. "And if it becomes too much, I need you to promise me you'll say so and we'll find somewhere quieter or leave seeing more for another time. It can be overwhelming at first and there's nothing wrong with taking it slowly."

Listening carefully, still holding Louis's hand, Bradley nods. "I didn't even think of that," he admitted. "That it might all get to be...well, a lot, all at once, and everything. I'll definitely let you know, if it is. And if there's something that really bothers me...it's okay to not watch it?" He can't even imagine what that something might be, but he's coming to realize that his imagination isn't even remotely creative enough for this situation. That there are many things out there that he might not even believe until he's seeing them, or sometimes even feeling them.

He picks up on one bit of Louis's explanation. "What do you mean, hand-feeding them? They can only eat what their masters hand them? Is that a rule, in your club?" He doesn't remember reading that in the book.

"No, no, it's not a rule at all, but some dominants enjoy feeding their submissives, and they have their food cut into small, bite-sized pieces so they can feed it to them by hand."

"Oh. Sounds rather...messy," Bradley offers, wrinkling his nose a little.

Louis laughs. "You didn't think so when I was feeding you chunks of melon and cheese the other night."

Bradley's eyes widen. He'd forgotten that, and what a deliciously intimate thing it had felt like, having Louis feed him with his fingers, just lying back and enjoying it.

"I didn't even realize that's what that was," he admits, laughing at himself just a little. "There's that vocabulary thing again, biting me in the arse. But I think, I'm pretty sure, getting to see your club and some of the things there, it'll be context, you know? I can see all those things I've only just read about." He glances mischievously up at Louis. "Of course, we could just get some good porn instead. I'm sure *you* know where to find the proper good stuff."

"Yes, I do, but porn's never as good as actually watching," Louis says with a grin. "At least not as far as I'm concerned." He shifts down, pushing Bradley over onto his back and kissing him thoroughly before lifting his head again. "Of course, in about half an hour there's going to be a package here for you, and after that, you might not want to be watching anything to do with sex, in person or on television."

Delighted to be rolled over and kissed senseless, it takes a moment for Bradley to register what Louis is saying. Then his eyes fly open and he peers up at him, suspiciously. "What do you mean, a package? And why wouldn't I want to watch good porn? I'm not generally a huge fan of porn, but good porn is always good, even if you've had as fierce a shag as we've just had."

"Unless you're wearing a cock cage and you can't get hard, no matter how much your cock is straining to do so." Louis grins, his eyes sparkling.

Bradley's mouth drops open in shock for a long moment. "A cage? Really? It's coming...in a package?" He's slightly bewildered, starting to get turned on at the very idea, shocked, curious, it's all a muddle in his mind. Excitement and anticipation start to grow as he remembers how they had discussed this before. "The kind of cage where you put it on, and then I can't get hard...until you take it off, right?"

Louis nods. "Yes, that, and a few other things. That was what the phonecall was about."

"Really?" Bradley struggles to get himself propped up on one arm, so he can see Louis's face more clearly. "You called and they're sending you things...for me? Us, I mean? Holy shit. What other things in the package?" It's been long enough that his body is starting to respond to even the idea of new toys, new experiences, Louis's hands on him giving him pain and pleasure.

"I'm not telling," Louis teases, laughing, wondering whether Bradley will take him at his word or push him to confess. "You'll have to wait and see."

"Oh come on," Bradley wheedles a little, tilting his head so he can bat his eyelashes at Louis in a very silly way. "You should tell me, so I can prepare. It's not like I'll likely know what they are, anyway! And the package is a whole half hour from getting here, that's torture, that is."

Louis laughs. "Very well," he says, pretending to have it dragged out of him. "There's the cock cage, and the locks, and some cream to remove this hair," his hand suddenly under the covers, cupping Bradley's cock and the curls surrounding it. "But don't worry. It's very safe."

Bradley shivers all over when Louis's big warm hand cradles his cock, letting himself lie back down on the bed with Louis hovering over him. "You remembered," he says quietly, smiling up at him. "When I said I'd like to try it, without the hair. You like that too?"

"Yes, very much," Louis nods. "And I'm going to enjoy being the one to spread it all over you, make sure that every last hair is removed, and you're left bare, smooth, nothing left to catch in the cage." He grins. "Are you sure you want to know the rest?" he asks, continuing to knead Bradley's cock in his palm.

Eyes getting wider with every word Louis says, Bradley nods, squirming as Louis's hand closes around his mostly-soft cock, too tight to be comfortable. He's still starting to get hard, though, blood rushing down as he imagines Louis removing all his hair, leaving him smooth and clean. No hair to get between his skin and Louis's touch. That much more sensitive. He shivers at the idea.

"Definitely, definitely want to know the rest," he blurts out.

"A pad for kneeling, for your knees on the hardwood," Louis says, well aware that's not that exciting, "and a large black dildo with a suction base, and an assortment of cock plugs." He grins, stroking and squeezing Bradley as he feels him growing under his touch. "That's it. For now."

Bradley doesn't know what a suction base is for, on a dildo, and has no idea what a penis plug does, though he can imagine, he thinks. He loves kneeling and the pad will be brilliant. And with the cream and the cage, it makes enough of a package that he's a little overwhelmed.

"Which are you going to use first?" he asks a little breathlessly, rubbing his cock up into the palm of Louis's hand, looking for friction. "That's a lot of things, you can't use them all at once, surely."

"Of course not," Louis says, letting Bradley move against him, knowing that he won't be allowed to come again. "Well... you could," he amends with a laugh, "but I wasn't planning on it. I was simply going to make you bare and lock you into the cage, tease you for a while, fuck you..." He grins and leans in, kissing Bradley again, his mouth hot and hungry again. "But I could put the dildo on one of the chairs over there. Make you sit down on it and keep you there while I do my crossword puzzle, fucking yourself on it, unable to get hard."

"I think I like the original plan best," Bradley gasps, the second description actually scaring him a little. He's already hard, now, though, so his brain isn't running on its fastest track by any means. "The cage...what happens when you fuck me in the cage? If I can't get hard...how does that even...oh god." He pushes his hips up into the pressure as Louis's fingers touch him just right.

"How does that even what?" Louis grins, stilling his hand, and shifting his body weight to pin Bradley in place.

Louis not moving his hand lets Bradley gather his thoughts again. "How does it even work," he finishes, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat, trying to sound a bit more normal.

"Simple. I fuck you, you get aroused, but you can't get hard," Louis whispers, moving slightly, if only to let Bradley feel how aroused he is, "and it hurts, that ache, but eventually, when I take it off, the next day, or the day after that, and I let you come, you'll come so hard you'll swear it's never going to end."

"That has got to feel so bloody odd," Bradley guesses, getting a knee up by Louis's hip, rocking up into his body, a lazy, sexy rhythm, nothing urgent in it. "Turned on but not hard. I love getting fucked after I've come, though, it's so good, I can feel so much more. Maybe it'll be like that." His pupils are so dilated with desire that the blue is just a faint ring, and his cheeks are flushed pink. "I like the idea. Of you being here whenever I'm hard, when I get to come. So it's like, they're for you, just for you, like it's being saved for a special treat that only happens when I'm with you."

"I like the idea too," Louis murmurs. So very much. He kisses Bradley again, his hand resuming its stroking.

"You'd have to promise to see me a lot," Bradley says, serious and kidding all at once, hips working his cock into Louis's grip even as he speaks. "Remember, oversexed over here. I might get, I dunno, a blockage or something. Die of frustration. One of those."

Louis laughs, amused, kisses Bradley again. And again. "I'll see you all the time," he says, promises, rubbing his thumb over the tip, over the precome welling there. "Inspect everything, thoroughly, to make sure."

"G-good," Bradley stutters, head falling back as Louis's thumb presses hot drops of liquid from his cock, though he's still not completely, fully hard. "I would hate to explode. It'd be horridly messy. And embarrassing. And, and I don't think I've gone more than a day or two without a wank at least, since I discovered what my cock was even *for,* so, oh god." He squirms hard. The pressure of Louis's hand is lovely and warm and firm and just not enough. He whines a little. He doesn't even know what he's craving, but it's like an itch inside him, demanding more. Now that he's had the intensity, his cock's developed a mind of its own, and won't stand up and play without it, apparently.

Louis laughs, the sound low and slightly darker this time. "I know what you want," he says, lightly pushing his thumbnail into the slit. "But you've already had your orgasm for today, haven't you?"

"Just one?" Bradley gasps as that thumbnail scores at his skin, the edge exactly what he's been craving. Even that small tang of pain is enough to make his cock jump, filling hard and fast. "One...one is only one, not many, I could do many, I could totally do very many," he babbles, not tracking clearly. Wanting more. Needing more.

"I know you could," Louis nods, stroking and pushing deeper, keeping everything only gentle enough that he knows Bradley won't be able to come. Not like this. Not without more. "And you will - when I want you to."

The reality of this is starting to sink into Bradley's pleasure-soaked brain. That Louis, if they do this, will be able to say yes or no to him coming more than once a day, at his own whim. That he'll have full control over it, too, if Bradley's wearing the cage. That Bradley will have *no say at all* in when, or if, he gets to get hard, or come. The sound he makes is nearly a whine, high in his throat; part arousal, part fear, all heat and wanting and needing. "I, I don't even know how to ask," he stutters out. Louis's hand is too gentle. His mind is flying in too many directions at once, and the cage and toys haven't even arrived yet. He presses the back of his head against the bed, hard, trying to ground himself, get a little self-control back.

"That's easy," Louis teases. "You say please let me come, or please may I wank and come, or please, please, sir, I need it so badly," giving a twist of his wrist and digging that nail in a little harder.

"You want to hear me begging?" Bradley guesses, opening his eyes, locking his gaze on Louis's smiling face, looking for clues. "I can beg, oh, definitely yes. Should...oh--" that thumbnail hits a tender spot and his hips come off the bed as he gasps. It's nearly raw, where Louis has been scratching in his slit, and every touch zings pleasure through him. "Should I call you sir? Is that...is that how I should say it, when we're like this?"

Louis nods, watching Bradley, wanting to fuck him again, but also wanting to wait until he's in the cage, his cock restrained, unable to get hard. Wants to fuck him again and again like that. Until he has him in tears with the need for it.

"I...please," Bradley says, slowly; this is his first time begging like this, he's not sure how best to say it. "Please fuck me, sir." It sounds good, right in his mouth, to say that to Louis, and he flushes even darker with pleasure. "Please, sir, fuck me, fuck me and let me come, please, I need it, I need you. God, please." The hand on him is gentle torture; light and soft except for the quick, spearing pain of that nail, the way Louis casually uses it, taking him apart piece by piece.

Mon dieu. Those words, coming from Bradley's mouth, Louis doesn't know how he can deny the boy. He nods, reaching over to the nightstand for a condom, starting to tear it open when there's a loud knock at the door downstairs. "Merde." He chuckles and hangs his head for a moment, then pushes back onto his knees, smiling at Bradley as he makes his way off the bed. "I'll be right back."

Bradley groans, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes, practically quivering with frustration. He was so close, Louis had been about to fuck him, he could feel it, he'd been reaching for the condom. Whoever is at the door has the worst timing he's ever heard of. Ridiculous. He *aches* with needing to come.

Then he remembers what's in the delivery, and sits straight up in the bed, staring after Louis. Waiting for him to come back up the stairs, nearly holding his breath with anticipation.

Louis comes back upstairs, smile wide, eyes sparkling, his arms filled with two boxes, one smaller and one larger. "You can come and see if you'd like," he says, setting them down at one end of the kitchen island. He rummages around in the cutlery drawer for a pair of scissors then slices open the tape on top of the small one.

Erection slowly subsiding with the deep breaths and concentration he's devoting to it, Bradley nods, then gingerly gets out of the bed and follows Louis into the kitchen area. He is wildly curious, and presses up close to Louis's back, peering over his arm as he opens the smaller box.

Louis smiles at Bradley peeking over his arm. "This is the cock cage," he tells him, pulling out a small box and opening it. He hands the cage to Bradley to examine. "It's plastic, vented, with an opening at the end so you can still piss standing up, and these," he pulls out a zip-locked plastic baggie with a bunch of white things inside, "are the locks. They're single use, so as I said you'll need to account for their use and keep a record for me."

Bradley takes the cage with careful hands, turning it over and over, fascinated. It looks awfully small, and it's clear, shining and new. He pushes two fingers into the hole, wiggles them around, watches how they're forced to curve downward, like his cock when it isn't hard.

He can't stop staring at it. Wondering how it'll feel, how the locks work, how it all fits together. He knows there's more in the package, so finally, reluctantly, he tears his eyes away, though he keeps the cage in his hand.

"Are you paying attention?" Louis asks, wanting to make Bradley's heard him about the locks.

"Yes," Bradley brings himself back from his imaginings, nodding, playing back what Louis had said. "The locks can only be used once, so if one comes off, I'll need to make a note for you, to explain why? That's right?"

"Exactly." Louis hands Bradley a couple of plastic rings. "These are the spacers, they go between this larger ring," which he holds up, "and the cage part you're holding. They give it a better fit."

Bradley nods, listening attentively, still turning the cage over and over in his hands. "So it won't smash anything," he guesses, wincing at the thought.

Louis laughs. "Yes, so it won't smash anything." He grins. "And this, this is the hair removal cream," he says, holding up the bottle. "Are you ready?"

continued here...

[feedback welcome. comments screened]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): hangover

jennandanica@gmail.com — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 14:56:56 GMT

players only. takes place the day after Louis and Bradley are reunited.

Hanging up his cell phone with a trembling hand, Bradley crawls back under the covers of his bed and pulls them up over his head.

For just the second time in the entire filming of Merlin, he's called in sick to work. The first time was a case of food poisoning that'd taken out half the crew. This, though...he doesn't know what this is. He feels completely bloody awful. His head is pounding, like it's being held in a vise that's winching itself tighter and tighter. His stomach is heaving, and he's always been known as the iron man at the table, able to eat anything and feel fine.

Worst of all though is the bleak, heavy feeling. Like something is sitting on his chest, like there's nothing good in the world, like he's so tired that he won't be able to sleep. He knows there's nothing to it, rationally. But he can't imagine talking to Angel right now, or god forbid Colin, or even any of the other cast, who would batter him with questions and worry. Already there's been a knock on his door, which he'd ignored.

He wonders, vaguely, if something he'd eaten last night had made him sick. Memories of nibbling melon and bread from Louis's fingers trickle through his mind, and more memories follow. Louis, over a week ago, warning him of a hangover. Chemicals in his brain. Something. Grasping to it like a drowning man, he opens his phone again, and hits speed-dial six. Louis's number, that he said to call anytime.

Louis is going over the early reports on the new batch of trainees with Pierre when his phone - his personal cellphone - rings. He glances at the call display, sees that it's Bradley and holds up a hand to Pierre. ^I need to take this,^ he says, knowing Bradley's not exactly fond of phones and wouldn't disturb him without reason. "Bonjour," he answers, smiling, clearly happy to hear from the boy.

"Hey, Louis," Bradley says. His voice even *sounds* grey. "I wasn't sure...is it okay to call you when you're working?" He is hesitant, now that he hears Louis's cheerful voice, pleased to be speaking to him, he can tell, to reveal that he's called because he feels undefinably bad somehow.

"Of course. If I was doing something really important, I would have forwarded this phone to Marie," Louis says, frowning a little, concern already rearing its head at the sound of Bradley's voice. "I'm in a meeting with one of our... managers but it's okay. It's not pressing. Are you at work?"

"Nope. Called in sick," Bradley trails off, then bites the bullet. "You remember, you said something about a hangover, back the first time we got together? This doesn't feel like any hangover I've ever had though. I didn't, I thought maybe, I wasn't sure." Head aching fiercely, he rubs his temple with the heel of his free hand. "Maybe, I thought, you knew something that'd fix it?"

"What are the symptoms?" Louis asks, thinking about how hard they'd scened the night before, and his reluctance to let Bradley go back to the hotel when he knew he'd be alone. "Is it your head?"

"It *aches*," Bradley says, still rubbing at it, eyes closed as he hides from the light under the blankets again. Anything to ease the pounding. "And my stomach is all in knots. But I can't sleep. I thought, maybe food poisoning, but you sound like you're okay, and I just don't know what to do."

"I'll come and see you," Louis says, gesturing at the files in front of him and shaking his head at Pierre. Later, he mouths. "I can be there in about half an hour and we'll figure out."

"You don't have to!" Bradley protests, flailing an ineffective arm out of the blankets. "No, I just, I wanted to know if you knew what I should do, that's all, you don't have to leave work and come all the way here..." He trails off. Just saying the words, he realizes what he's craving Louis's presence like nothing else.

"Nonsense," Louis says firmly. "If you /are/ experiencing what I talked about, I'm the cure." He watches Pierre leave, knowing he'll not only have to reschedule but deal with the gossip mill later. "I'll be there soon." He ends the call, not giving Bradley the chance to object again.

Bradley blinks at his buzzing phone, not quite realizing Louis has even hung up on him for a long moment. Then he throws the phone across the room, suddenly and irrationally angry, and crawls back under his covers. He thinks, spitefully, that maybe he just won't let Louis in. See if he likes driving all the way back to his great big fancy office after being turned away cold. That'll teach him to hang up on people.

Louis grabs his jacket from the back of the door and slides it on, checking to make sure he hasn't left anything out on his desk that shouldn't be there. He checks his calendar, noting the meeting he has scheduled for later this afternoon and curses softly under his breath. Oh well, it can't be helped, and he knows every single board member would understand if he were to explain. Finally, certain he has everything, he heads out to the front desk where Marie's already watching for him.

"Reschedule Pierre for tomorrow, my board meeting whenever everyone can get together next, and have Richard make my rounds with the trainees," he says. "I'll be at Bradley's hotel and you can reach me on my cellphone, but I'd prefer not to be disturbed."

"Of course," Marie says, resisting the intense urge to pry. "For when tomorrow?"

Remembering what Bradley had said about his schedule, Louis responds with, "Noon. I may be in earlier but keep my calendar free until noon."

"Okay." Marie picks up the phone to start making calls.

"Merci," Louis says with a smile, receiving a small one in return.

Marie sighs softly, watching him go, torn between amusement and concern. "De rien."

It takes a little longer to get to Bradley's hotel than Louis had predicted, the traffic thicker at this time of day, but it's less than an hour before he's pulling into the parking lot. There's only one person at reception and they're already busy with someone else so he heads straight for Bradley's room, knocking softly on the door when he gets there, mindful of the boy's head.

Bradley has managed to get hold of a coffee and it's done a tiny bit to ease his headache. He's lying back in bed, staring unseeing at the television, which is showing some crap French gameshow that he doesn't understand. He hears the soft knock over the canned cheering, and groans, turning his face into the pillow.

"Go away," he calls, trying to keep his voice quiet, to keep from jarring his own ears. "Whatever it is I don't want any."

"It's me. Louis," he says, standing there, feeling like a fool in the hotel hallway, the maid giving him a look as she passes by with her cleaning cart.

Bradley stays silent for a long moment. Then another. He's just miserable enough that he genuinely ponders just sending Louis on his way, uninvited as he is, but he finally can't do it, and sighs. "Come in, then," he calls, voice more tired and dejected than he even realizes.

Louis looks wonderful, though, he realizes as soon as the door opens. Quiet, sure Louis, who can handle anything with that calm command he seems to so effortlessly possess. He finds himself smiling, just a little quirk of the corner of his mouth.

Louis closes the door softly behind him, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the half-light of the room. "How are you feeling?" he asks, moving closer. "Any better?"

Bradley tips a single, speaking shoulder in half a noncommittal shrug. He watches Louis come into the room, sighs deeply, and turns off the telly as Louis moves to the bedside. He tips his head up so he doesn't have to take his eyes off the other man. "I'm beastly," he warns. "Absolutely horrid, no one should be around me right now. What did you mean by 'I'm the cure,' anyway?"

"I meant that if you're suffering from subdrop," Louis says, shrugging off his suit jacket and loosening his tie, "which is what we call the state I was describing to you, then having me be close," settling on the bed beside Bradley and pulling him in against his chest, despite his initial resistance, "should help."

"'Subdrop?'" Bradley asks, dubiously. It sounds like a made-up word. Like a gumdrop in a submarine. And yet, he can't hold in the deep, shuddering sigh he breathes out as soon as Louis's arms pull him close, ignoring his stiffening and trying to pull away. The minute he gives up and gives in, he can feel something loosen in his chest, and he turns his face, instinctively, into Louis's shoulder. Breathing him in. Even scrambling a little closer on the bed.

"Yes." Louis kisses the top of Bradley's head, holding him close and nodding to himself when he feels Bradley give in and relax against him. "It's called a drop because basically, you're experiencing a withdrawal from the chemicals your brain was producing during our scenes, from the high they produced, and from me as well."

Bradley chokes out a sound that might, generously, be called a laugh, into Louis's shoulder. "D'you know, back at the beginning, I was asking myself if you'd cast some kind of spell on me. Drugged me, you know, a potion or something, and I laughed at myself for that little flight of fancy." He lifts his face, then, his eyes wide and confused and the tiniest bit accusing. "It was *true?* I'm actually addicted to you. To what we do. And when I don't get it I'll feel like *this?*"

"No, not always," Louis says. "This... this was my error in judgement, and I'm sorry - I shouldn't have taken it for granted that you were staying last night." He pauses, exhaling softly, reaching up to brush the blond fringe from Bradley's eyes. "It depends on the intensity of the scene and how far down you go, but as a rule we should keep our harder scenes for when I'll be with you the next day, even if that only means you have a later call, or that you can at least stay over so I have a chance to see how you're doing in the morning and that you've come back up completely."

"Oh." Bradley puts his face back in Louis's shoulder, where it's dark and soft and warm. And smells of Louis. His headache is fading to a soft thudding pain, but his stomach is still clenched into knots. "So...so you're saying, it's just like going out for pints. If I--we--drink a lot, it's best to drink the water and take the paracetamol before sleeping. Prevention being the best cure, and all that?" He squirms closer still. "How can you prevent it?" He wants to know how last night would have gone. If he'd stayed.

"Well, we did some of the things - I had you eat, we got you some water, we sat together and talked after - all of that is called aftercare and you should never scene with someone who's unwilling to give that to you," Louis says. "But getting a good sleep and feeling connected with your dominant, that's part of it as well. And now that you know that's what this is, it'll be easier for you to come out of it. Same way as when you have a hangover, you're able to identify why you're feeling so horrid and drag yourself through whatever you need to until you can properly rest and get it out of your system."

"Yeah, I didn't sleep well," Bradley confesses. "Head was hurting and I was just restless, all over. It's a little better, now." His eyes are even closed, though he's nowhere near sleep. He can slowly feel his muscles unclench as Louis keeps touching him, the warm voice explaining things taking away the tang of fear of the unknown, which had been hanging over him. "And I didn't want to leave, when I drove home. Ugh. This is rotten. I don't suppose you could grab me the little bottle out of the bedside table?" It's got meds with codeine, which, now that he knows what's going on, he knows will help. He doesn't remember that his little lockbox is in the same drawer--opened and unlocked--until Louis has already opened it.

"Of course." Louis reaches into the nightstand and hands the Bradley the bottle, noting first that it's paracetamol with codeine, perfect for treating Bradley's headache. "Do you need some water?" he asks, before seeing Bradley already has a glass by the bed which he hands him as well, eyes falling on the lockbox inside the drawer as he goes to close it. "Have you used anything besides the book?"

Bradley takes two of the extra-strength pills, gulps the water, and puts his head back down. "The ring," he mumbles a little. "I tried it. It was...kind of funny, really, 'cause I was having trouble staying hard, believe it or not. *Me.* And so I tried that and it helped." The clothespins were what had finally gotten his cock up and straining, but he doesn't add that part. It's frankly still a little disturbing to think about. "I didn't want to try the clamps until you'd showed me how to adjust them. Those teeth. Very scary." He fake-shudders against Louis's chest. Already starting to edge towards feeling just a little more human.

"And the plug? You weren't tempted to try it?" Louis asks, picking it up. "It's slightly smaller than the one I had you wearing that night but not by much."

"I was," Bradley admits, watching Louis handle it. "I just hadn't quite got to it yet. We've been doing night shoots, and it just wasn't the same without you there, anyway."

Louis smiles, strangely pleased in hearing that. He puts the plug back in the box, telling himself that taking advantage of Bradley now, in this shape, would only compound the problem. "You said you were having problems staying hard?"

"Just the once," Bradley assures him hastily. He doesn't want Louis thinking he's got early onset erectile dysfunction or something; wouldn't THAT be a cock-up. Literally. "As soon as I used the clothespins everything worked fine." And wanking the morning before, he'd pinched and worked himself hard, thinking of Louis's return, which had gotten him off very nicely.

Louis's smile widens. "So you were craving the pain?"

Bradley hadn't thought of it quite like that. "I...I suppose, yes, I was," he realizes slowly. He glances up at Louis, sees his smile, and relaxes. Clearly this is not a bad thing. "I was," he admits more surely. "Everything felt sort of dull without it. Boring. All muffled."

That gets a soft laugh and a nod. "It's like that from the other end as well," Louis says. "The last time I tried to have vanilla sex... well, let us say that I had a completely different fantasy going on in my head at the time."

That gets a small grin from Bradley, and he relaxes yet further. His stomach has unknotted, now, and as the pain meds start to work, he finally feels less awful. "Good to know I'm not the only one," he jokes. "Before long you'll have me to where I won't be able to get a stiffie at all unless you've dug your fingernails in my cock."

"Speaking of which," Louis says, biting back a small groan at the thought. "How is your cock this morning?"

"A little sore," Bradley says, thinking about it. In his all-overishness this morning he hasn't really focused on any one area, and his headache had blanked out any other hurts from his attention. But his hole is burning a bit still, raw and tender, and his cock aches dully, like a bruise. "Achey. But good. I mean. Not in a bad way. Oh bollocks, you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, but I still want to see," Louis says, motioning for Bradley to show him.

"Oh." Bradley flushes, slow and hot. Hesitantly, he moves far enough away to lift his hips, push his raggedy old track pants down around his thighs, push the blankets away to give Louis a look.

Even now, even in the middle of all this, Louis's eyes on him, almost clinical, have his blood pumping a little faster. His cock starting to fill, sluggishly, against his thigh.

"It looks good," Louis says, picking it up and inspecting a little more closely, fingers pushing the foreskin back from the head. Every movement done with purpose, knowing exactly the effect he's having on Bradley. "Have you used the washroom this morning?"

"Yes," Bradley breathes, watching Louis handle him, watching his cock lengthen and stiffen in Louis's hand. Something about that casually possessive way he's touching him, inspecting him, is ringing bells all over his brain. Like his cock is a nice toy, like it's nothing unusual to pull back the foreskin like that, examine the fold inside, the red mark that's still there from the clothespin. Maybe it's the endorphins again, maybe it's just the arousal, but he feels better than he has since waking up long before his alarm this morning. "It burned some. Nothing awful." He's sprawled back against the pillows, languid and boneless, slow heat creeping up his spine.

"Good. Otherwise I would have had to have you show me that too," Louis says with a wicked little smile, squeezing the head between his fingers.

"Oh!" Bradley's hips lurch forward just a bit at the sudden pressure, the pinch to the head of his cock. Not hard, but firm, enough to bring his whole system awake and tingling. His cock jumps and twitches in Louis's fingers, filling fast at the thought of Louis making him piss, watching, evaluating. Inspecting, again, so intimately. He remembers the book, talking of a boy presenting himself for his Master's inspection and how fascinating the idea had been, that someone could know him inside and out, touch him everywhere, everything open to his evaluation.

"Is this...is this part of the 'cure?'" he manages to get out, eyes on Louis's face. "It's working if so. As long as the crash isn't twice as hard after."

"It shouldn't be," Louis murmurs, switching to stroking Bradley, his own cock already filling, tightening his trousers. And the fact that Bradley's cock only hardens and his cheeks only flush at the thought of Louis watching him piss... Mon dieu - the boy'll be the death of him. "But it is a little - how do you say, hair of the dog," he finishes with a grin. "I'll be with you all day though. I had Marie clear my calendar."

"Really?" Bradley's voice sounds far too hopeful to himself, and he blinks a few times to clear his head. He can't quite believe how attached he's become, how quickly, and how much he already seems to need Louis around. "That...that's amazing. And hair of the dog, that's right. It makes sense. I thought I might die an hour ago and now I'm gagging for it again, maybe it really *is* some kind of magic, or something." He knows he's babbling, but the rush and tingle of Louis's eyes on him, hand on him, are just overwhelming.

Louis is stroking him now, and Bradley sighs a little, relaxing into the gentle pleasure of it. His thigh brushes the thick, solid length of Louis's cock behind his fly, though, and smiling a little, he rubs it there deliberately.

Louis groans, pushing his cock against Bradley's thigh as he continues to stroke him. But it's quickly not enough. "Get your pants off," he orders, "and let me move. I'd rather not go home with my trousers soiled," he says with a soft laugh, standing and unbuttoning his shirt first. "Do you keep any supplies here?" He has his own, always carries them with him, but he's curious.

"Condoms and lube. In the drawer," Bradley says, kicking out of his track pants and yanking his t-shirt over his head. He can still feel the headache lurking but it's far, far in the background, his arousal and excitement overcoming it. He feels so much better already. Watching Louis undress, he sprawls back on the bed, and slowly, deliberately bends his knees up. Putting his feet flat on the bedspread, pulling them up towards himself, letting his knees fall out until he's completely open, on display, for Louis. Cock, balls, hole, all feel the touch of the cooler air of the room, and he shudders.

"You are so beautiful," Louis murmurs, watching Bradley, eyes locked on him, visually caressing all that's on display, his plans changing in an instant. "I want you to prep yourself for me," he says, standing at the end of the bed, his cock already hard and starting to leak at the tip.

Bradley practically *glows* at the praise, balm to the jagged, rough edges of his psyche right now. He nods, never looking away from Louis's eyes, and reaches for the lube, just within arm's length.

Popping the cap, he slicks his fingers quickly and without ceremony, then rubs two fingertips back and forth across his fluttering hole a few times, relaxing the sore muscle there, easing his own way inside. When he does dip in, it's rough and quick, in to the second knuckle, spreading the fingers to scissor himself open as fast as he can.

He is hungry for the feeling of Louis inside him, imagines Louis's cock where his own fingers are now, and closes his eyes, a quiet little moan escaping his parted lips.

"What are you thinking?" Bradley tends to go quiet when he's under so Louis takes the opportunity to ask while he's still here, on the surface, with him. "With your fingers inside you, opening your hole for me..."

Bradley doesn't open his eyes, but Louis's question keeps him focused and aware. "I'm thinking of your cock," he answers honestly. "How it feels. How much better it feels than my fingers, and how sore I am from yesterday." Even his fingers are sparking shivers of pain, his abused muscles and skin inside protesting. "How you're watching me and you can see everything," he adds, more quietly. "How I can't scream no matter what you do, because we're in the hotel."

Louis nods and kneels on the bed, his cock jutting out in front of him, groaning softly at the words, at the sight of Bradley's fingers moving inside him. "Good boy. You can stop," he says, hissing in a soft breath, his cock throbbing roughly. "Put a condom on me."

Nodding shakily, Bradley opens his eyes, and sees Louis right there, *so* close. He tears open the condom package with quick, sure fingers, and rolls it down over Louis's cock, taking a moment to touch, stroke, and caress it. It's gorgeous, every solid inch, and he wants it.

Once the condom's on he lies back, hooks his hands under his knees, and raises his hips up. Offering. Knowing his hole is slick with lube, red from yesterday, stretched open.

His intention had been to have the boy ride him, but with Bradley offering himself up like that, looking so young, so beautiful, so vulnerable, Louis can't resist. He moves between his thighs, leaning forward to brace one hand against the wall above the bed, the other on his cock, rubbing the head over Bradley's hole. "Promise you won't scream?"

"Oh god," Bradley chokes out, as that blunt, hot head prods at him. "I...fuck, I don't know. I think so. Yes. I'll try." He lets go of one of his knees and puts his forearm across his mouth, ready to muffle any cries he might make.

"Good boy," Louis says again, teasing for a moment more before he slams his hips forward, burying his cock in Bradley's ass with that one sharp thrust.

The "good boy" is almost sweet, and soft, and then the shock of penetration, hard and fast and merciless, has Bradley arching up, shoulders pressed hard into the bed, mouth open as he gasps for air. It's like being fucked with a burning brand, the way Louis's cock scores into his body, the abraded skin protesting the stretch and give, and he bites at his own arm before giving it up and just panting hoarsely against his skin. He can see sparkles behind his eyelids and the strain to not cry out is harder than he thought it would be.

Louis curses beneath his breath, hips rocking gently, finding more room for his cock. He curses again then slowly pulls out, fucking just the tip into Bradley when he gets there, teasing them both.

"Nnnn..nnnnn!" Bradley moans into his arm, hips making yearning little circles, protesting the tease. His hole clenches greedily whenever Louis's cock dips in. His cock, sore and red as it is, is stiff against his own belly and he can't believe how fast he's gone from miserable to flying high, every nerve ending sparking pain and pleasure to him, his whole being awash in sensation.

Pushing deep, once, twice and again, Louis stills, touches his tongue to his upper lip, his head thrown back as he waits for the edge, suddenly right there, to recede. And then he's fucking Bradley in earnest, hips pumping, cock thrust deep again and again and again, harder and faster and harder still as the pleasure rushes through him.

It's absolutely furious, the pounding pace that Louis sets, and Bradley sets his teeth and closes his eyes and just hangs on. He's soaking in the pleasure, the closeness, the feeling of Louis inside him so hard and so deep that Bradley can nearly taste him. It's balm to everything that was hurting, and he's floating again, drifting down under. Strangely, nowhere close to orgasm; he almost feels too good to come, though deep down he wonders if that's a paradox. But he is just a vessel right now, eyes cracked open to watch Louis's face wracked with pleasure, the way he moves so smooth and hard.

Bradley can barely catch his breath, and nearly does scream when Louis cores into him even deeper than before with one long, angled thrust that curves his spine with its force. At the last moment he bites down on his arm again, whining low through his teeth and nose, desperately keeping the sounds inside.

It feels so good. And watching Bradley beneath him, biting at his own arm to keep from giving them away, only sharpens the pleasure. Louis holds out as long as he can, driving into Bradley with a force that makes his teeth ache, and then, orgasm approaching quickly, not to be deterred this time, he reaches down, gripping Bradley's cock and stroking him roughly in time to his thrusts. "I want you to come for me," he orders. "Now, before I do. Pull me over."

The rough words, the tight hand on his cock, jolt Bradley out of the haze of pleasure he's drifting in. He is snapped back to sharpness, feeling everything; the core-deep thrusts of Louis's cock, the pressure as he's bent up off the bed by the snaps of Louis's hips, the burn of friction and the jolting pleasure of his prostate and Louis's hand.

He widens his eyes, needing to see everything, all of this. Letting every muscle in his pelvis bear down, clench, and he's coming hard and fast, wrenched out of him as if on Louis's command. *Everything* goes tight, and whites out in a wash of blinding pleasure that has him crying out into his arm again, barely remembering to try to muffle the sound.

Those wide blue eyes, the give of his body, the clench of his hole, that cry, muffled only by skin - all of it conspires to shove Louis over the edge, his balls tightening, his cock jerking against that vise-like grip, a low ragged groan spilling from his lips as he's slammed into his own release, spurt after heavy spurt poured into the condom between them.

Exhausted, wrung out, trembling, Bradley can't keep his legs up anymore and lets them fall to the sides, as soon as Louis's orgasm trails off. He's sticky and sweaty, but he can't stop clinging to Louis's arm, can't stop looking at his face, like he's the focal center of everything in the room. He fights to catch his breath and watches the aftershocks shiver across Louis's face, as Bradley strokes his shoulders and chest with light fingers, just touching.

Louis drapes himself carefully over Bradley. Kisses him softly on the mouth and sucks gently at his lower lip before drawing back, his eyes locked on Bradley's face. "You are so beautiful," he whispers, smiling. "And such a good boy for me."

The words, the kiss, the closeness, they feel almost as good as the orgasm, Bradley realizes fuzzily. He also realizes he's smiling stupidly at Louis, following him with his mouth, wanting more kisses. Stealing them when he can duck close enough. He keeps stroking that warm, smooth, tanned skin, like his hands are as hungry as the rest of him.

"Feeling better?" Louis asks between soft kisses, groaning softly as Bradley's hands travel over him. He only wishes he didn't have to move; could stay here, like this, forever.

"Getting there," Bradley murmurs back, holding tight, trying to keep Louis from moving. He does not at all want to lose even a centimetre of skin contact with Louis, not if he can help it. He makes himself totally limp and dead weight, hanging his whole body around Louis's, trapping him where they lie.

Louis gives a soft laugh, collapsing completely on top of Bradley. "Intent on keeping me here, are you?"

"Not moving, not ever," Bradley nods seriously, clinging like a leech. "I'm too tired to think right now, but I'm fairly sure that when you got here, I started feeling better. So clearly you can't be allowed to leave. Ever. We'll just have to stay like this, I'm afraid." Even the warmth of Louis's softening cock inside him is somehow a comfort, despite the ache.

"Unfortunately, I'll have to move," Louis whispers, more than a little regretfully. "The condom?"

"Don't care," Bradley insists stubbornly, though he knows it's futile. Fighting his own instincts to hold on, he reluctantly unwinds his arms and leg from around Louis's limbs. Though he knows he's pouting, he does finally let go.

"Do you ever go without?" he asks curiously, watching Louis deal with the condom. "With boyfriends, I mean. Once you're tested and clean, it's fantastic. So intimate." He knows some men have absolute rules about condoms, and it's not a dealbreaker, but since Louis *did* call him "boyfriend," he thinks he has the right to at least ask.

The question gives Louis pause, and he sits down heavily on the side of the bed. "I haven't," he says. "Not in a very, very long time." Merde. Mostly because he's not monogamous and never will be. But even that isn't something he wants to discuss with Bradley right now. Not when going without is something he would agree to in a heartbeat if Bradley knew the truth and was okay with it. "But it's something we could talk about at some point."

"Yeah? Brilliant." It's not a "no," and that's good enough for Bradley. He loves barebacking, loves that feeling of skin on skin, the hot come inside him, but he knows that it's not for everyone. Some don't like the risk, some don't like the mess. He understands.

He props himself up on one hip and an arm, and loops the other over Louis's shoulder, palm flat over his heart. Pushing his face against the soft place where Louis's neck meets his shoulder, he presses light kisses on the skin there. Licking curiously here and there, tasting, still hungry for contact.

Bradley's response makes Louis smile. Everything's so simple with him. Not like with some of the other men he's known. "That feels good," he murmurs, relaxing, leaning back and letting Bradley touch him as he pleases.

"It does, yeah," Bradley agrees from his side. "You feel good. Everywhere." He presses close to Louis's back, letting his hand pet and stroke, rubbing his palm in circles over the pebbled little nipple. He trails his mouth down Louis's shoulder, tasting the point, the round muscle, then back up to his neck. He rubs his cheek along the back of Louis's neck, greedily indulging his cravings. Not even planning for this to go anywhere, he just wants to explore and touch and taste until he's satisfied.

Louis closes his eyes, letting himself sink into the touch. It feels so good, so relaxing, stress and tension draining from his body. "I don't suppose you could rub my back?" he asks, smiling over his shoulder.

Bradley lights up a little at the idea. "I absolutely could," he says eagerly, squirming around until he's properly situated, running his hands down Louis's shoulders, starting with gentle stroking before kneading more firmly.

He's indulging himself and pleasing Louis at the same time. The remnants of subspace are fairly vibrating with the pleasure of it, and feeling the knots of tension ease out of the muscles under his fingers is amazing. The heels of his hands are perfect for stroking down Louis's arms, and on either side of his spine, pressing tightness out of every inch.

He finally lets his hands wander up into Louis's hair, stroking the cool, shining strands through his fingers. Massaging gently with thumbs and fingertips, knowing from experience how many muscles hide there, holding aches and tension.

It feels incredible, better than Louis expected, and he moans softly, repeatedly, under Bradley's hands. And louder when he reaches his scalp. "So good," he murmurs, every last bit of tightness and strain melting away, bit by bit, touch by touch. "I should have you do this all the time," he says, only half-joking.

"Aces by me," Bradley agrees, his own eyes half-lidded now as the massage gentles down to petting again. He tugs a little at Louis's arm; he wants him lying down on the bed, so he can just crawl up as close as he can get and go back to sleep. The sleep he didn't get much of last night, and now seems unable to fight off.

Louis goes with the tug, stretching out in Bradley's bed, the feel of the mattress so different to his own, or those of any at Citadel. "This is a horrible bed," he informs him, laughing a little, feeling boneless enough that he expects he'll sleep anyway.

"I did warn you," Bradley points out, mouth curling in a smile as Louis stretches out, taking up three quarters of the available space. Bradley doesn't mind, and arranges himself around and on Louis, using him like the mattress itself, tucking himself in until his head is just where he wants it on Louis's shoulder, his leg between Louis's knees, sprawled out over him like a blanket. "I like it," he mumbles. "Fits great."

///

Louis opens his eyes to find himself at Bradley's hotel, the boy still curled around and on him, snoring softly. He shifts a little, carefully, not wanting to wake him. Gets a look at his watch. It's late morning now, almost noon, and they've been sleeping for a couple of hours. He shifts again, kissing the top of Bradley's head, his bladder complaining some, but he's determined to ignore it. He wouldn't disturb Bradley for the world.

Bradley's not exactly a light sleeper. In fact, he's been known to sleep through alarms, fire drills, all sorts of loud disturbances. But this situation is unique enough that when Louis stirs, he starts coming up from the depths of deep sleep, slowly creeping back towards consciousness. He's warm, he's comfortable. There are arms around him, and everything smells lovely. He sighs, deeply, stretches out one leg, and blinks his eyes open.

The light has totally changed in the room, and he can tell he's been sleeping for hours. He moves his head sluggishly to see the clock. Late indeed. Good thing he doesn't have to be anywhere. He pats Louis's chest blearily. Lovely chest. Lovely pillow.

"Should I take that to mean you're awake?" Louis says, amused at being patted.

"Mmph." Bradley lifts his head far enough to stare at Louis for a long moment. Louis, who is speaking. Bradley still feels rather hungover, to be honest; groggy and not-quite-all-there, but his headache has receded almost completely, and he no longer wants to throw up everywhere. He considers the question. "Yeah," he rasps out. Dry mouth. "Sort of."

"Water?" Louis offers Bradley the glass from nightstand. It's room temperature now, not the most appealing, but it'll save him from trying to unwrap himself from Bradley's arms and legs.

"Tnks," Bradley mumbles, taking the glass and gulping it down. Even tepid it's delicious and washes the leftover-nap taste out of his mouth. He yawns, and puts his head back down, still drowsy and not quite awake. "It's late," he says after a long quiet moment. "Did you say you can stay the entire day?"

Louis nods, kissing the top of Bradley's head. "If you want me to."

"It's suited me down to the ground so far," Bradley admits, as close as he'll come to begging "yes, yes please yes" and clinging like a baby monkey. "I suppose I'll catch hell for malingering tomorrow, calling in to have a day with my boyfriend in the room, but I don't care. I'll tell them you've nursing training or something, and came to wipe my fevered brow." He is, after all, an actor.

"Well, I do know first aid," Louis says, laughing and pulling Bradley in just that little bit closer. "Are you hungry? Would you like me to go and get us some food?"

"Not really," Bradley admits. He's not. "But I desperately need a wash and a piss. There's food in the hotel lobby, or the cafe and deli next door, if you're hungry? We generally eat in catering, so I don't have anything in the room for snacks."

"I think I'll check out the cafe, if you're okay for a few minutes?" Louis asks, stretching a little. "After I make use of your washroom." His bladder making its needs known again.

"It's in a bit of a tip," Bradley warns him. He hadn't been expecting company, after all. "I mean, nothing growing on the tiles or anything, but you might want to mind where you put your hands, on the sink." He thinks he recalls missing the basin when spitting after cleaning his teeth the night before. Can't be sure. "I'm fine, though, yeah, definitely go to the cafe. They have fantastic sandwiches."

Louis kisses Bradley's temple then eases out from under him. "I'm sure I've seen worse, but thank you for the warning," he says with a smile, running a hand through his hair and padding his way to the washroom, where yes, it is rather... messy. He uses the toilet though and washes up quickly, ignoring the state of things, and wondering what Bradley must think of his own place. "Your turn," he says, coming out.

"Cheers," Bradley smiles at him, sitting up and stretching, slow and carefully. His body still aches, but it's no longer making him want to curl up and die. Louis was right; he really is the cure. Shaking his head, he slides out of bed, ignoring his nakedness, and grabs his towel off the little drying rack at the window. "My life is getting stranger every day," he informs Louis. "If you'd told me two weeks ago that a man could be a hangover cure, I'd've laughed myself sick. But I do feel loads better."

"I'm glad," Louis says, pulling on his underwear and trousers. "But yes, there are a lot of things about kink that sound strange when you try to explain them." He smiles and pulls his shirt over his shoulders, slowly buttoning it, the tails left untucked, his gaze skimming over Bradley. He really does need to go to the cafe. Now. Before they end up back in bed.

Watching Louis dress is nearly as sexy as watching him *un*dress, and Bradley stares unabashedly, towel hanging forgotten in his hand. Especially when he finishes, looking all rumpled and delicious with his shirttails hanging out, not fastening his top buttons. "I'm going in the shower," Bradley says resolutely, finally tearing his gaze away. "And you need food. Right. Yes. Doing that now." He turns and marches into the washroom, immediately turning on the shower as hot as he can bear it.

Louis laughs, shaking his head, happy to know they're on the same page. He shoves his wallet in his back pocket and heads down to the cafe, leaving the hotel room door unlocked after a moment's hesitation since it was unlocked when he got there. The reception is empty now and the woman there gives him a look but he nods and smiles as if he belongs, exiting the hotel and heading next door to the small cafe and deli where he has them make up two ham and cheese sandwiches while he picks out two apple juices and two containers of chocolate mousse. He chats with the owner about the weather for a few minutes after paying and finally heads back to the room with a rather large brown paper bag tucked under his arm.

Bradley showers fast, scrubbing down hard, getting the remnants of the awful night off him. One thing this hotel does have is amazing water pressure, and he lets himself soak for a few long, luxurious moments, stretching a little, shaking out his arms, letting the heat soothe some of his aches away.

After drying off and pulling on clean boxers and a t-shirt, he even makes a few swipes at the mess in the washroom. Hangs up the towels and the hand towel, stacks the magazines, and wipes down the sink. It's not *clean* precisely, but it's a little more presentable. He can hear Louis moving around in the room outside, he's back, and Bradley grins and heads back to his side.

He raises an eyebrow at the food on the tiny table. It's quite a lot of food. "Hungry, were you?" he asks, drifting naturally to Louis's side.

Louis sets his sandwich down and leans back in his chair, wrapping one arm around Bradley's hips and pulling him closer. "I thought you might be hungry after all," he says, smiling up at him. "There's a sandwich and juice, chocolate mousse..."

Bradley leans into the embrace, letting Louis's arm and shoulder take some of his weight as he drapes himself across his shoulders, dropping a kiss on the crown of his head. "You do know I'm not *actually* a kid, right?" he says, amusement lacing his voice. "Mini-breakdown and naptime earlier notwithstanding, you don't have to bring me a midday snack."

"I know," Louis says, his smile turning slightly sheepish. He's not going to get into how there does tend to be an element of parent/child dynamic between dominant and sub. Not now. Not when he's already turned Bradley's world upside down in so many ways. "But it seemed strange, not to mention rude, to only bring back food for myself. You can always have it later," he offers, quickly adding, "If you want."

"I was just having you on," Bradley smiles into Louis's hair, drops another kiss, and then sprawls into the other chair, still grinning, absurdly pleased by Louis's thoughtfulness. "It actually does smell pretty fantastic. I'd've had a hard time keeping my stomach from growling, if you hadn't brought something back. Thank you." He reaches eagerly for the mousse. Now that he's feeling better, his stomach is reminding him that he'd never had breakfast.

"Dessert first?" Louis comments, raising an eyebrow.

"Always, when possible," Bradley nods firmly. "You never know when something might come up and interrupt, and if you haven't eaten your pudding, it might just go uneaten. What a shame THAT would be." He digs in with enthusiasm.

Louis laughs, finishing his sandwich before reaching for the other container of mousse. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Bradley says, licking the last of his mousse off his little plastic spoon. It's chocolate and delicious and he can't believe he'd thought he wasn't hungry. He reaches for the other sandwich, watching Louis curiously. "Ask away."

"It's simple curiosity, nothing more," Louis prefaces, "but you asked about going without condoms, after testing, and said how much you like it." He pauses, cracking open his apple juice while he considers how to put this. "How many men have you been with that way?" he asks, deciding straightforward is the best route.

"None, recently," Bradley answers, turning his words over in his head. It's a very touchy subject these days, he knows. "I've not had a real relationship for ages now, and I wouldn't do it casually. I'm far too careful for that." He nibbles his sandwich, thinking. "Three. My only three *real* relationships, I suppose you'd call them. All at school or Uni. We were tested, it was kind of a nice commitment thing, you know?"

He does know. Louis has never done it, but he does get what it means, and the thought that Bradley's only done that with three other men, three men with whom he had real relationships, and now he's offering the same to Louis - well, he thinks he gets what that means as well. He smiles into his chocolate mousse, feeling surprisingly young and unjaded. "You make me smile," he says, even though he knows it's weird and rather out of nowhere.

That brings a beaming, bright smile to Bradley's face as well, and he ducks his head a little, cheeks pinking up. "That's...that's really good," he says haltingly, unsure of how best to reply to something that makes him feel so good. "Me too. You, I mean. I like spending time with you." It's simple, direct, and it's just the truth.

Louis smiles widens and he starts to say something else when his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, sighing softly as he reads the text. ^Your father wants to know where you are. Why board meeting cancelled?^ "Just a moment," he says to Bradley, quickly texting back: ^Tell him personal. Will explain later.^ "My father," he explains, even though it was actually Marie and his father wouldn't know how to text if the fate of the world depended on it. "There was supposed to be a board meeting this afternoon."

Bradley's jaw drops a little and he stares at Louis. "You..a board meeting?" He can guess from the suits, the car, the office, the flat, that this isn't exactly some tiny mom-and-pop store that Louis is running, here, but more of a major corporation. Big money. And he'd come straight to Bradley when he'd called. He can't quite believe what he's hearing. "You blew off a board meeting, because, what, I had a hangover? That's...you're absolutely mad, you know that? I was feeling horridly guilty for calling in when I've only three scenes to shoot today." He can't help it, he grins, and leans over the table for a hard, quick, impulsive, grateful kiss. "I'm glad you did, though, mad or not," he murmurs against Louis's mouth.

Louis laughs. "It wasn't too important," he says, not wanting to be given more credit than is due. "It's easily rescheduled and my father will understand."

"Really?" Bradley cocks a skeptical eye at him. "In my experience sick boyfriends--" and he has to pause and savor the word, even now "--don't generally fly as good excuses with financial boards. But maybe your board is something different. And your father sounds pretty fantastic, if he really will understand."

"Well, they're not simply a financial board," Louis starts to explain, "and my father..." He shakes his head and laughs. "You'll have to meet him," he says simply, then points at Bradley's sandwich. "Eat up." Quickly changing the subject. "So... I suppose now that you've 'bunked off,'" his eyes sparkling, "we're stuck in your room all day, and tomorrow? Since you're not working until noon?"

"Pretty much." Bradley takes another bite of his sandwich, chews, swallows, and smiles. "What's the diagnosis, Dr. Garneau? Am I cured? Would you say I'm back in good fix, fit for anything?" He spreads his arms out, tilting his head invitingly. "I'll take some chaff from the guys when I go back to set, but I'm not stuck here, either, not since it's this late in the day. I might be malingering now, but I'll take full advantage."

"I think you look fantastic," Louis says, scrunching up his wrappers and tossing them back in the bag. "And in that case, put some clothes on, pack an overnight bag and grab your camera. We have some more countryside to see - before I take you back to my place and ravish you again."

"Oh no," Bradley moans dramatically, forgetting that not that long ago, he'd been moaning nearly as much and in genuine distress. "I cannot survive such torture...beautiful countryside, incredible wildlife, an unbelievably gorgeous man at my side, promises of ravishment...I just don't think I can go on." He puts a dramatic hand over his eyes. Then peeks through two of his fingers. "Seriously though, how many times *can* you ravish me before it just wears out?" he asks, partly teasing, partly curious.

"Which? My cock, your ass or the ravishing itself?" Louis asks, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Any of the above!" Bradley laughs, uncovering his eyes and moving to get dressed. "My arse is killing me but I have to think you're doing that on purpose this point, since I've not been truly injured--or truly comfortable sitting down!--since I met you."

"All part of my master plan," Louis tells him, cleaning up the rest of their garbage and wiping the crumbs from the table into his hand.

"So there *is* a master plan," Bradley muses, stepping into his trainers after yanking on a clean pair of jeans. "I suspected as much. One of these days I'm going to discover you're secretly some sort of supervillain, that your mysterious job is running a vast organization. Or global super-*hero* more likely, since last I checked, supervillains aren't known for bringing people sandwiches and pudding when they're sick in bed. I could be wrong, of course." He twinkles a smile at Louis.

"That's me," Louis laughs, the vast organization part making him cringe internally. "Superman. Of course, that then makes you Lois Lane, yes?"

"I think, probably, Jimmy Olsen," Bradley says judiciously, pretending to think hard about it as he does up his laces, shoves a hand through his hair, and declares himself ready to go. "I haven't the legs for Lois. Plus, the whole plucky boy photographer bit." He brandishes his camera in illustration, before hanging the strap around his neck. "Either way it definitely suits you. Secret identity. Acres of money. Wait, no, that makes you Batman!" He grins at Louis.

"And you Robin?" Louis grins. "That works," he says, ruffling Bradley's hair.

Bradley wrinkles his nose at Louis. "Robin, much cooler than Jimmy Olsen, camera or not," he declares. Then sits down. "I seem to be a bit low-energy, still," he confesses to Louis. Not easily; he's proud of how fit he is, and of his stamina. But he seems to be so drained today. "Don't suppose we could see the sights from your car, instead of walking? I can't miss more work, and I'm still just, I dunno. Wiped out, a bit, I suppose."

Louis smiles, picks up Bradley's overnight bag and his suit jacket and offers his hand. "Of course. We'll take a drive with the top down and then head back to my place."

"Fantastic." Bradley shoots him a grateful look. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he wonders at how he doesn't seem to need to keep up his normal manly-man, sport fan, tough-guy front with Louis, that he's cried in front of him and is now admitting to weakness, all without hesitation or real embarrassment. Like he knows that it's okay, with Louis, that he won't think less of him. But that's a thought for another day, when he's not so tired, and he follows Louis out to the sleek little car, putting it aside.

He does remember to send Angel and the director a text, though. Letting them know that he's better, that he's off for some air, but that he'll return soon. He just hopes he isn't raked too hard over the coals tomorrow, when shooting resumes.

[feedback welcome. comments screened]

Louis Garneau and OC Marie D'Aubigne

jennandanica@gmail.com — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 20:41:05 GMT

players only. backdated to the day after Louis and Bradley spend a day off together.

Draping her cardigan over the back of her chair, Marie grabs the folders from her desk and heads for Louis's office. Lost in her own thoughts, she pushes the door open, barging straight in, her lips forming a small rounded O of surprise as she looks up and registers Louis at his desk in front of her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here," she says quickly. "I was just going to put these on your desk."

Louis smiles. "It's okay. You're not interrupting anything," he says with a small shrug, returning to his email. "Although I did say I'd be in."

"Mm-hm."

Louis looks up. "Mm-hm what?"

"Nothing," Marie says, the folders still clutched to her chest. "How was your weekend?" she asks, even though, technically, it's still Sunday.

"It was good," Louis says, unable to keep from smiling as he goes back to his laptop.

Marie's eyes narrow. "Only good?" She's known Louis long enough to deserve more than that. Especially since he's never dated anyone outside Citadel in the time they've worked together. If you could even say he's 'dated' anyone at all.

Louis sighs and sits back, trying not to fidget under Marie's gaze. "It was... wonderful," he says, picking up his favourite pen and playing with it.

Marie relaxes, smiling. Suddenly it's a very good morning indeed. "You like him," she says, taking a seat in front of Louis's desk.

The pen gets clicked open and shut and open again before Louis answers, the slightest hint of colour in his cheeks. "Yes. Yes, I like him. Very much."

"And yet you're here," she points out.

Louis shrugs. "He had to work today," he says. "And so do I."

"Ah. So you're both workaholics," Marie teases.

"Well, he doesn't have much choice about it. They schedule him in and he shows up."

"Unlike you."

"Says the woman who called me on the first Friday night I've had off in how long?" Louis retorts.

That, at least, gets a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. It was horrible," Marie says. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought I'd seen everything but the boy was screaming and hitting Pierre and he looked like he was having a seizure at one point." She shakes her head. "I've really never seen anyone that beside themselves." She sits back in the chair with a sigh. "But I shouldn't have called you. Anton was able to handle everything and Lord Cullvington decided to take him home when he got here. He said something about trying again next year," she adds, making a face.

"He might want to make sure the boy truly knows what he's getting into next time," Louis says. "Or that he stops trying to make a slave out of someone who's more suited to staying a boy." God knows his job would be so much easier if more people learned the difference.

"I know. But Anton said he'd take him if he comes in again - now that they've established some trust between them."

"That's good." Louis smiles, clicking the pen open and shut again.

Marie hesitates before speaking again, weighing her respect for Louis's privacy against her concern for him. "Does he - does Bradley know about Citadel?" she asks. "Have you told him?"

"Not yet." Louis exhales softly, wondering at Marie's ability to zero in on the heart of every matter.

"Not yet. Which means you're going to?"

"I have to at some point," Louis says, with another click of the pen. "If we're going to keep seeing each other. But he's new, to all of this... and telling him I spank and fuck other men for a living..." He sighs and shakes his head.

"That's not all you do," Marie protests. "And I wouldn't put it to him like that anyway."

"Nor would I," Louis says, rolling his eyes just a little, "but you have to agree - that's likely the part that will make the biggest impression."

Marie winces. "Unfortunately, yes, but you don't want to leave it too long. He'll think you were..." lying, but Louis never lies, "untruthful, that you were hiding things from him."

"I know." Louis nods, scribbling abstract doodles on the open calendar in front of him. "I'll talk to him when I get back from New York."

It's Marie's turn to nod. "What about Adrian?"

Louis looks up. "What about him?"

"Are you still going to see him while we're in New York? Are you going to tell him about Bradley?"

"Yes. Of course." Louis frowns. "Why wouldn't I see him?"

"Because he's not just some boy you fuck. And now you've found another man who's not just some boy you fuck. He might want to know," she insists.

"Yes, but he belongs to someone else and I'm not ever going to be anything other than I already am to him," Louis says, frowning more. "He would want me to find someone else. He's said so."

Snorting softly, Marie shakes her head. "Saying something and meaning it are two very different things. He loves you."

"And I love him, but I can't - I can't live my life without having someone who belongs to me and only to me."

Marie smiles. "And you think this Bradley might be it?"

Louis breathes deeply in then out, shoving a hand back through his hair. "I don't know," he says, gesturing a little wildly. "It's - I really like him, and he likes me, and I want to be open to seeing where it goes."

Marie's smile widens. That's what she really wanted to know. "I think that's great," she says, standing and placing the folders in front of Louis. "But be honest with him about who you are and what you do, sooner rather than later, or you might that lose that opportunity."

"Yes, ma'am," Louis says sharply, glaring a little and waving her away, but he sighs as she shuts the door. He knows she's right.

[feedback welcome. comments screened

Louis Garneau and Bradley James (bjames): a day off

jennandanica@gmail.com — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 19:26:46 GMT

players only. the day after Louis gives Bradley his spanking.

Just as he'd thought, the sprinting runs and hard kicks of the match have actually helped ease the tight ache of muscles in his buttocks and thighs, and Bradley slaps hands with one of the sound guys--who'd delivered a stunning slide-tackle earlier, put Bradley right on his back and saved a certain goal--and walks off the pitch, laughing, wiping his face with the hem of his jersey. He'll be sore later, but right now he feels fantastic.

He can see Louis sitting near the small group of onlookers who always gather to watch the Saturday matches. He wonders if anyone'd convinced him to bet, and if he's been properly harassed by Colin and Angel, and if so, how it went. He seems to be chatting with one of the camera crew, but the girl drifts off with a smile and a wave as Bradley walks up.

"We won," he crows, entirely unnecessarily, since Louis has been there since the kickoff. "Second week in a row. AND my first hat-trick." Not that he'd been playing super-hard to show off, or anything. Of course not.

"You played wonderfully," Louis says, grinning widely. "Congratulations." His voice lowered a few notches as he asks, "You weren't too sore?"

"Right at the beginning," Bradley admits, glad his face is already red from all the running so that his flush won't be visible. "But it worked right out, mostly. I dunno if there's bruises or not. Don't suppose you'd like to check for me?" He shoots Louis a totally cheeky grin, still flying high off the win.

"I'd love to," Louis answers, eyes going sinfully dark for a moment. "Here?" He grins.

Bradley's eyes widen hugely and he whispers a scandalized "NO!" before realizing that Louis is teasing him. "Oh, that's not on," he protests, then, giving Louis a light punch to the shoulder. "Not nice, not nice at all."

"Really? I thought it was quite nice of me to offer," Louis teases some more, unable to keep from laughing. "What now? Drinks with your friends, or home and shower?" He's not really sure what's on the schedule, only that he wants to spend as much time with Bradley as he can today.

"We mostly go our own ways after the match. *After* showering of course," Bradley makes a face at his own smell. "Generally it's every man and woman for themself, Saturday nights. The marrieds get together with husbands and wives and such, some of us might go out for a pint or watch telly. Since you're here, I'm guessing you might have some idea of how to rescue me from a night of bad beer and worse French TV shows?" He grins at Louis hopefully.

"I think I might," Louis says with a nod, still keeping his voice lowered, "but before I take terrible advantage of you again, I should probably feed you and maybe encourage some of your other hobbies. Have you been to Rocamadour?"

"That's in the tourist guide," Bradley thinks out loud, starting to take off his shin guards before wandering back towards the hotel and trailers that they call home. "It's a town, right? What other hobbies? I can tell you now, I've no wish to be on horseback today." He bends down to unlace his cleats, winces. "Or for the foreseeable future," he mutters, mostly to himself. His bum itself is actually fine...but quick movements spark a dull internal ache from all the unaccustomed penetration.

"I was thinking the one which brought us together in the first place," Louis says dryly, amused at all the muttering, his gaze wandering over Bradley's backside - which he would quite seriously like to inspect for bruises. Up close. "Your camera? Photography? And yes, it is a town. It's set into--" he stops himself. "Trust me, you need to see it, and we probably have enough light still if you feel like a drive and maybe dinner there."

"That sounds good. Fair warning, I'll probably make a pig of myself," Bradley straightens back up, stretches, then shakes out his legs and arms, making sure his muscles cool down properly. "Football brings up quite the appetite. Just let me dash and have a quick shower so I don't drive you out of the car with the smell, and I'll meet you at your car? I'll just be a moment."

Louis nods, starting back towards his car, and then calling out over his shoulder, "Don't forget to bring your camera."

"Won't forget it," Bradley calls back, and jogs off towards the hotel, not far away.

He showers in record time, swallows a handful of Ibuprofen, throws on whatever's clean, and has his camera all packed up in a matter of a few minutes.

Angel is in the hallway when he breezes past, and gives him a smirk and a thumbs up. "I'll ring you later!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Back tomorrow, or tonight, depends."

All in all, it's not even 15 minutes by the time he's trotting up to Louis's car. "Ready!"

"Good." The sight of the other man approaching has Louis smiling again. Unable to help himself. Idiot.. He unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for Bradley. "If you see anywhere you want to stop, let me know. It's a very scenic drive and there won't be a lot of cars at this time of day, so we can pull over almost anyplace."

Louis's wide, white smile in his tanned face makes Bradley break out in a beaming grin of his own. God, he's so gone for this man. He's in so much trouble, here, but he's going to enjoy every minute of it.

"I'm standing ready." He lifts the camera that's hanging round his neck in illustration; it's the same one he'd had the day they met, his good camera. "I have to say, I'm bloody glad your goons didn't just stomp this. The BBC doesn't pay so well that I can just run off and buy another like this." It was a gift to himself, on confirmation of the "Merlin" job, so it has even more sentimental than monetary value.

"They're not goons," Louis protests, laughing, waiting until Bradley's settled in the car before closing the door and going around to the driver's side. "They're security and they're very well-behaved. They don't smash cameras until they know for sure you're paparazzi," he says, getting in and buckling up his seat belt.

"Uh huh," Bradley answers, shooting a skeptical glance sideways. "They were big, loud, and they searched my rental car and dragged me off to stand before the lord of the manor--remind me to thank them for that bit, by the way--in a highly goonish fashion. But a rose by any other name, I suppose." He wiggles a little until he's comfortable, looking around the posh car interestedly. "It's quite a mindfuck, learning to drive on the wrong side," he comments, as they get underway.

Louis thinks about that for a moment. "Yes, it would be," he says. "I have to admit, I don't usually drive in other countries. Cit--" Merde. "Our organization has a fleet of private cars and I tend to make use of them when I'm working, but this," running a hand over the console between them, "this is my personal baby." He grins over at Bradley.

Bradley's ears prick up a little at what he can tell was nearly a slip--and he STILL can't figure out what Louis is being so closedmouthed about, with his work--but he just repeats his internal mantra of 'I will not pry, I will not pry,' and ignores it as best he can.

"Your baby," he laughs, instead. "The way you're petting it, there, I almost feel like I should be jealous. Tell me about it, you're clearly dying to brag."

Louis laughs. "Not dying to, but I am proud of it. I always wanted a Maserati when I was younger and it was a present to myself on my 30th birthday."

"I'm almost afraid to touch anything," Bradley teases, holding his hands out in front of him in a great show of care. "It's too fantastic to smudge it up with fingerprints. Holy shit!" as Louis accelerates, "it's like being in a plane or something, on the way to takeoff! I guess we won't be missing sunset after all."

"It's an eight-cylinder engine, 440 horsepower," Louis says, grinning. "Wait until we get out of town a bit and I'll show you what it can do." He glances over. "But you're welcome to touch it. I believe possessions are meant to be enjoyed, not simply put on a pedestal to admire."

Bradley's eyes go a little wide. He's no gearhead, but he knows enough about cars to understand that this is a fairly extraordinary machine. As he settles back into the seat--comfortable, buttery-soft, perfectly crafted to hold him comfortably--he feels a little like Cinderella being whisked away in the fancy coach to a ball, or something.

He shakes his head, grinning at himself. Cinderella indeed. His feet are far too big.

"It's fantastic," he tells Louis, honestly. And relaxes, running his hand over the smooth curve of the dash, admiring the styling. "And it'd be a crime not to use it, a machine like this. It deserves to be driven. Opened up to the limit once in a while, too."

"Speaking of which..." Now that they're out of the town and out on the open roadway, he shifts gears, slowly applying more gas and taking the next few curves at breath-taking speed, confident of his driving skills.

"Whoa." The G-forces kick him back into the cradle of the seat, and Bradley admires the way Louis double-clutches up past third gear and straight to fourth, the way he confidently handles the gearshift, the smooth shift of muscles in his thighs as he switches from gas to clutch and back again. There's a reason stick shift will never go out of fashion, he muses.

"That's ridiculously sexy," he informs Louis. "You'd better stop, or I'll have to snog you, and at this speed, it would almost definitely cause a wreck."

"Should I take that to mean I should slow down?" Louis teases, doing just that, although mostly because they're fast approaching another small town. He smiles over at Bradley. "Your friends are very nice, by the way. They were very friendly, welcoming..."

"I was going to ask about that," Bradley nods. "Did you get roped into making a wager on the game? Angel is famous for running the betting. And they didn't give you that bloody third degree of theirs, did they? I swear, it's like living with the family, all over again."

Louis nods. "I did and I bet on you," he says. "Made some money, maybe enough for dinner." He grins. "They had a lot of questions but I told them they would have to ask you for most of them." He glances over again. "I wasn't sure what you had told them about how we met?"

"The truth," Bradley shrugs. "I mean. Who could come up with a better story than that? Trespassing, the goons, then seeing this tall, mysterious, handsome stranger in a luxurious office, who asks you out for dinner. It's wilder than fiction, really. And that we hit it off...well, they already know that. It's not like I make a habit of running out to dinner every night, or staying out till the morning, or...well, any of it."

He glances at Louis sideways. "They don't know what we get up to in bed, if that's what you mean, though. That's between you, me, and the wall, as far as I'm concerned."

To be honest, it hadn't even occurred to Louis that Bradley might share details of their intimate encounters. "No, I wasn't worried about that," he says, shaking his head. "I simply wasn't sure what you'd said and I didn't want to contradict anything you'd already told them. Colin? He's the one, who turned out to be straight?" He'd found the boy less than attractive when he'd seen pictures of them together on the internet, but up close, in person, Colin's smile and personality had quickly shone through and he'd found himself appreciating his attraction for Bradley.

"Yeah, that's him." Bradley looks away for a moment, then back. "You don't notice the ears so much, in person, right?" He stops and thinks for a moment. "Do you know..." he starts, thoughtfully. "I haven't thought about that, not once, since our dinner date? That's...rather amazing. Not that I was pining away or anything," he adds quickly. "Just, the sting was there. It doesn't seem to be, anymore."

"I'm glad," Louis says, suddenly aware that he's barely thought about Adrian since meeting Bradley, despite his upcoming trip to New York. He starts to say something more but then points at the side of the road, slowly pulling over. "Look. Isn't that incredible?"

"Oh my god, stop, stop a minute, can you?" Bradley's poking at the door, trying to figure out which of the sleek, discreet little buttons controls the window. "I need a picture of that. Does someone *live* there? That's crazy!" It's a gorgeous little chateau, built out over running water on a great stone arch, old and warm-looking with the age. He gets the lens cap off and is clicking away even before the car is stopped all the way.

"You can get out," Louis says, unlocking the passenger door from his side, and joining Bradley by the water. "I think there's still someone living there. I'd have to ask my father. I think the family was trying to sell at one point but the upkeep for these places is incredible. I suspect they're still there."

Bradley's a little distracted by how close Louis is standing. He moves even closer, until his shoulder bumps up gently against Louis's arm, just enjoying staring at the gorgeous old house, the way the sunlight hits the stone and shines off the water and the ivy and the old, many-paned windows. "It's smaller than it looks, if you take away all that stonework at the bottom," he points out, voice quiet. "Just a couple of floors. Must be bloody fantastic inside, though." He snaps a few more pictures, then lets his camera fall and takes in the view.

"It is," Louis says with a nod. "I can ask and see if they'd let us inside another time, if the same family still owns it." He glances from Bradley to the house and then back again, sliding his arm around the other man and pulling him in a little closer. "You do realize I haven't touched you in hours?"

"How did THAT happen?" Bradley grins up at him, nudging even closer, until they're pressed together from knee to shoulder. "It's a travesty, it is. I think you should at least kiss me right now, so we can start making up for lost time."

And Louis does. He kisses Bradley, long and soft and slow, completely unlike their other kisses. No one watching, no sense of urgency behind it. Simply losing himself in Bradley's mouth.

This kiss is delicious. It's warm, and deep, and gentle, and Bradley just hums with delight as he presses against Louis, wrapping arms around his waist, soaking in the feel of him. Their tongues play together, sliding against each other, and Bradley sucks playfully on Louis's lip, before opening to deepen the kiss yet again.

Louis hardens the kiss, just a little, licking deeper into Bradley's mouth, exploring every part and nipping softly at his lips as he finally, reluctantly, draws back. Clears his throat, shifting slightly, his jeans much tighter than before. He grins, eyes sparkling. "Unless you want me to fuck you here, over the hood, I think we'd better get back in the car and keep going."

"It's a *little* public for that sort of thing," Bradley laughs, still pressed up against him, arms wrapped tightly around him, not letting go. Just enjoying all this contact. "And I dunno if my arse could handle it anyway. You've already fucked me rather raw, you know." He's curious to see how Louis will react to that news...if he'll hold back or be turned on by the idea, if he'll push to make Bradley even *more* raw than he already is. He wonders if Louis would be turned off by the idea that Bradley, deep down, wants that, so he just dangles it out there to see what Louis's reaction will be.

"So?" Louis leans in, whispers, eyes gone dark again, "Do you really think that'll stop me?"

"I...wasn't sure," Bradley gulps. Unable to look away from those eyes. "I don't know what the rules are, yet. I guess the answer's no?" His whole body tightens as he goes hard, his hole clenching convulsively at the thought of being fucked again, where he's already raw and aching. That delicious pain, even stronger this time. He shifts, restless, against Louis where they're pressed together.

Louis nods. "And this," he says, slipping his hand in between them, to cup Bradley's cock through his jeans, "tells me you want it to be no." His other hand on the small of Bradley's back, holding him close as he strokes him through the denim.

"Y-yeah," Bradley stutters out the confession, eyes closing involuntarily as his head falls back. "I think, yeah, it's kind of scaring me that I want it to be no, so much. Oh fuck, that's so good." He presses his hips forward greedily into Louis's stroking hand.

"Mon dieu," Louis breathes, eyes locked on Bradley's mouth as he continues stroking him, caressing his rock hard cock, thumb rubbing over the head. "You have no idea of the things I want to do to you..." And how much he wishes they were somewhere, already, a little more private.

"You'd better stop," Bradley tells him, low and strained. "Because we're still right by the road and...and remember, we're going to dinner, and we're...you said, we needed to not have sex on the car, just a moment ago you said it..." he's babbling, knows it, can't stop. He can't believe how turned on he is, just with a kiss and some petting. He pants a little, licks his lips, and forces himself to step just a little bit away. "You can do those things to me. When we're by ourselves. Right?"

Louis nods, watching Bradley and tamping down hard on the urge to... do something unwise. "After dinner," he says, opening the passenger door again. "When it's darker and no one can see us." The words mostly a tease.

Bradley raises an eyebrow at him, but is getting better at telling when Louis--even behind that straight face--is kidding. And he's starting to get used to the old-world manners, to having Louis hold doors for him, and such. He reminds himself that this man is leaving for New York very soon, and that who knows what might happen after that.

He'll just have to enjoy it while he has it, is all.

He reaches over once they're back underway and puts his hand over Louis's, where it's resting on the gear shift. Just enjoying that he can, that he can touch when he likes. And that he's still hard.

It's a short drive from there to Rocamadour. It's getting later, the sun starting to set so Louis doesn't take them into Rocamadour itself but to the little town above, l'Hopitalet. The tourist buses have cleared out for the day and parking's easy to find. "We can come back another day and visit the town," he tells Bradley as they get out of the car and head for the overlook. "But the best pictures are from here."

"You aren't kidding," Bradley breathes, gazing out over one of the most fantastic vistas he's ever seen. The town is built into the side of the mountain itself, and in the slanting beams of the setting sun it looks like something out of a storybook, or a legend. He's got his camera up before he can think about it, snapping pictures, adjusting the focus and zooming in on particularly gorgeous spots. Making sure to get the pigeons settling on the slanted tile roof of a church, the way the light glints off the window of a row of houses and the narrow road, and the rooftop gardens that look like bits of the hill have grown over the roofs of the town.

"It's completely incredible," he says softly as the last light starts to fade into twilight, and he has to put his camera down. "*Completely.* I can't believe I haven't been before. What a fantastic idea to come here. You're brilliant."

"I enjoy getting to show off my country," Louis explains, smiling, looking out over the gorge, the view never getting old for him. "And I bet you've barely scratched the surface on your own." He turns to Bradley. "I can show you more when I get back from New York if you'd like. There are some magnificent castles and gardens, and have you been to La Roque Saint-Christophe?"

"I haven't. I haven't been much of anywhere, besides Paris and the airport," Bradley confesses, still looking out, soaking in the incredible view. "You'll want to get together again, then? Once you're back from New York?" He knows Louis had said something about not a casual fling, but there's a whole new vocabulary at work in this relationship. He feels a bit foolish for needing it spelled out, but with this wild new dynamic between them, he doesn't know the rules, and doesn't want to guess and guess wrong. "I do, want to get together, definitely," he hastens to add. "Just, with all this new stuff happening, I want to be sure we're on the same page."

Louis smiles. He glances around, making sure that they're pretty much alone, the rest of the sightseeing crowd having melted away, gone for the day or at least to dinner. "Let me put it this way," he says, putting an arm around Bradley's waist and pulling him a little closer again. "If you did not want to see me when I return, I would be incredibly disappointed."

"Oh, good," Bradley says, leaning against him contentedly. "I'd have been the same. Honestly, it's probably a good thing you're off for the week, since I've a brutal shooting schedule, and you're such a distraction I'd probably make a total arse out of myself in every scene. And speaking of arses, do you s'pose they'd laugh at me in the crew if I asked for an extra numnah? Only, to go OVER the saddle on the horse, not under?" He grins up at Louis.

"Probably," Louis laughs, finally turning them away from the view, "besides, I have a feeling you'll be asking me to make you just as bruised when I get back so you can keep feeling that pain."

"You're probably right on that, too," Bradley nods, letting Louis move him as he likes. He's half-drunk on the beauty of the sunset and the simmering sexual heat, the drive, and the prospect for more tonight. "I like how when I move, sometimes it just bites me a little...like a reminder. Problem is, it's making me walk round with half a hard-on all the time, which can be a little inconvenient in wardrobe." Not to mention the livid suck-mark on his neck, that had prompted teasing about vampires from Colin, and raised eyebrows from Angel.

"Well, we can keep that sort of thing to when you have time off if you want," Louis offers, willing to take his cue from Bradley at this point, mostly because he's very unwilling to risk scaring him off by not respecting his career or any feelings of true discomfort with what they're doing.

"It's not really a problem, just a bit of inconvenience right now," Bradley assures him, pleased at the offer, at the consideration Louis is showing. "I mean, if it was something where I couldn't ride at all, or do my stunts or action sequences, that might be different...now it's just a bit of a twinge here and there. No worse than what I get from a hard tackle playing footie."

"Good," Louis says, nodding and smiling, rather pleased that he won't have to hold back, well, not fully, after all. "I thought we'd eat here," he says, gesturing at the restaurant in front of them. "They have some lovely tables overlooking the gorge and they don't require fancy dress although the food is rather... more complicated than what we had the other night. Is this alright?" He points at the menu pinned behind glass. "They do have steak, and some pasta dishes."

"Are you implying that I can't handle your fancy French food?" Bradley laughs, mock-scolding. "I'll have you know I've a very adventurous palate. Mostly. Though I'll never say no to a nice bit of beef." He inspects the menu for just a brief moment, then nods. "It looks perfect. Let's go on in. I'm starving!"

///

After dinner, they make it through a quiet walk around town, strolling hand in hand, talking about Bradley's work and friends and both their families. And then it's back into the car, Louis having successfully resisted the urge to molest the boy in some dark corner or alley, the lights in the parking lot ruling out the hood as well. "My place?" he confirms, expecting he'll make the drive in record time, so badly does he want to get his hands back on Bradley and show him more of all the things he's been missing.

"I think it's for the best," Bradley nods, whole body tightening with anticipation. "I don't think I can be quiet. But I've a voice call early tomorrow...and you're welcome to come back with me, get the twopence tour in the morning, if you like. Stay over. Experience the great pleasure of a midrange hotel bed and terrible catering coffee..." he laughs.

Louis smiles over at Bradley. "I'd like that. I have to go in to work tomorrow but it's not a long drive." And certainly not one he minds making.

"Fantastic," Bradley smiles back, pleased. Since Louis leaves for NY so soon, he's willing to snatch as much time as he can, before they're an ocean apart. "I'm not lying about the coffee, though. Drink enough of it, it just might kill you." He settles back into the seat, then shifts. His jeans are uncomfortably tight, his cock swollen hard against the fly. Everything is magnified by the still-tender skin on his bum, the burning ache inside where muscles were stretched too hard and fast. The memory just makes him harder, and he squirms a little more.

The shifting doesn't go unnoticed. "Having trouble?"

"Just a little," Bradley mutters, shifting again, finally finding a position where his cock isn't killing him with pressure and friction, and his ass isn't sparking fire up his spine. He sighs a little and leans back. "Better. Won't be *all* better until we get where we're going, though."

"You mean until I'm tormenting you even more?" Louis grins.

"Pretty much, yeah," Bradley admits, even the thought bringing back some discomfort. "Ugh. How far away are we, again? I swear, I haven't been this quick off the mark since I was a *teenager.* This is ridiculous!" He grins at Louis, letting him know that it's pretty darn cool, no matter what.

"Maybe ten minutes," Louis replies, glancing at his watch and then over at Bradley. "Have you ever worn a cock ring?"

"What? No." Bradley supposes he's going to have to get used to these sorts of questions. "I thought those were only for blokes that had trouble staying hard, and I've no problems in that area!"

Louis laughs, shaking his head. "I'm well aware you haven't but they can also be used for making sure you don't come."

"Oh." Bradley ponders this, turns it over in his mind. "And that's something I, you...people, want to do? Make sure someone doesn't come?" The whole idea is kind of a shivery new thing, exciting and strange. "Isn't the whole point to make the other guy come? I mean, mostly."

That gets a soft chuckle, Louis having forgotten what it's like to deal with someone so new to this. Even their trainees usually come to Sarlat somewhat prepared. "Not coming... prolongs things, intensifies them... gives your partner control over when you do get to come..."

"Wow. Wow. That's not even something I'd thought about. That you could even do that, control when someone comes and how, and that. You could probably even keep someone from coming at all, huh?" He squirms, heat building deep inside, whole pelvis starting to ache with his frustrated erection. He can't believe how turned on the idea is making him, that Louis could decide when he comes, if he comes, could have that kind of control of his body.

Louis nods, shifting a little himself. "Yes. For days. You can come through a cock ring, although depending on what kind and how tight it is, it can hurt, but there are things called cock cages. They're like a chastity device for men and they lock around you, cupping your cock, so you can... use the washroom as you need to, but not touch yourself otherwise."

"Oh," Bradley whispers, his mind full of static and wild imaginings of what that must be like, something like that, on him and keeping him from coming. At all. Not even a wank. He squirms *hard* and then forces his mind back to the conversation. "That's...really intense. Right? I mean, you'd have to give it all up to the man who put that thing on you. He'd really have control of it all, wouldn't he. I think I've some Googling to do when I get home." He is even sweating a little, some of it nerves, most of it how intensely he's aroused and fascinated by this whole concept.

"I can send you some books if you'd like," Louis offers, noting the squirm with another shift of his own. Mon dieu. "Most of the ones I have on hand are in French, but there are some very good ones in English, and there is a lot of misinformation on the internet. There are some good sites too, but I think it's too early for you to be able to tell which is which."

"I'd have no clue," Bradley admits. He watches Louis shift in his own seat, feels a burn of heat at knowing he's not the only one turned on, here. "Most of what I've seen is in porn, and I'm well aware that's not exactly true to life. I'd be delighted to have the books, the English ones. Do they have pictures? Not much of a reader, me."

"Some of them do," Louis says, nodding, laughing a little as they finally arrive in Sarlat. "I'll keep that in mind when choosing them but I do have one I want you to read and while it has some illustrations, it's mostly text. Not difficult text though, and I think you'll be interested in the subject matter which is always important if you don't enjoy reading." He picks the first free parking spot closest to the centre.

"I'll try to read it all," Bradley says, getting antsy as they park, unfastening his seatbelt even before Louis turns off the ignition. "I've only read a few books in years, and they all have the words 'Harry Potter' in the title. It's a bit embarrassing, but what can you do?"

"Relax," Louis tells him, getting out and coming around to meet Bradley on the sidewalk. "You don't have to read it all at once if you don't want to. You can use the index, look up things as we try them or as you're interested." He takes Bradley's hand in his, linking their fingers, and walking them quickly towards his place.

Louis's big, warm hand folded around his feels wonderful, and Bradley grins sideways at him, squeezing his fingers lightly. "I can do that, for sure. I'll even make it a nice discreet brown paper cover, like we used to with the lad mags back in school. It'll be a bit like a cookbook, a kinky cookbook. I'll only read the recipes that sound good."

Louis laughs. "That sounds like a good idea," he says, nodding as they make way through the cobblestone lanes, passing only a few other people on their path. "Which means if you get any packages from me while I'm away, you should make sure your friends are not around when you open them."

"I hadn't even thought of that," Bradley laughs, shaking his head. "It's going to be a struggle, we live in each others' pockets. I'll have to get a safe deposit box, something like that. A "do not disturb" sign for my door that blocks sound AND entrance." He bumps his shoulder against Louis's upper arm, just wanting the contact, enjoying the buzz.

"Not that you want to share," Louis says, reaching into his pocket for his keys as they reach his front door. "But do you think they'd be judgmental or disgusted if they knew? They seem very accepting of your sexual preferences."

"Well..." Bradley hums, thinking it over. "Not...disgusted. Judgmental, maybe, depending on what they saw? Some of them, anyway. I mean, some of them, they might be worried, too, if they saw bruises, things like that. I would've been, seeing them on someone, before realizing what might be going on. It's not so much that they won't ever find out, at least in theory...just not something to chat over coffee and biscuits about, really." He follows Louis quickly up the spiral stairs, right on his heels. "

Not coffee and biscuits outside Citadel anyway, Louis thinks, allowing himself a small smile at the thought. And then they're back in his place, the door shut behind them, away from prying eyes and ears, and he pulls Bradley toward him, sitting on the edge of the bed again, the boy between his legs. "I want to restrain you," he says, hands on his hips, pulling him closer. "Put a cock ring on you, and try some other things... how does that sound?"

Bradley wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, a nervous reflex. He nods carefully, wide eyes never leaving Louis's face. His cock is a solid throb of *want* against his fly, and the sooner he can get his trousers off...well, Louis can do whatever he wants, then, really. The now-familiar inside of the flat, Louis's warm hands, all steady him down and he nods again, more firmly. "I'd like that," he answers, voice a thin thread of sound.

"Good. Get undressed," Louis orders, sitting back a little. "And then you can undress me as well."

Eager to get his hands on Louis just as fast as he can, Bradley strips in record time, toeing off his shoes, dropping his trousers with a huge sigh of relief. As soon as he's naked he's on Louis, hands everywhere, stroking and petting and undoing buttons, gently tugging sleeves away and tossing his shirt over his shoulder. Then the jeans, a bit harder since Louis is sitting, but a quick shimmy and they're down his hips and off. He drops a quick kiss on Louis's knees, one then the other, before undoing his shoes and pulling the whole lot over his feet.

It might not be the most graceful undressing, but it's certainly efficient, and he stands back up proudly once Louis is naked, waiting for whatever comes next.

"Sometimes there's much to be said for eagerness over finesse," Louis murmurs, smiling, standing as well, his hands sliding down Bradley's back to cup his bruised cheeks, squeezing as he pulls him in close, their bodies aligned as he roughly claims his mouth with his.

Bradley kisses back with all the eagerness he feels. He can't stop moving in Louis's arms, squirming to get closer, to get his arms where he wants them, to rub his stiff cock against the roughness of Louis's thigh. "And to think, we made it all day, and you never once checked my bruises," he laughs up at Louis when they part for breath. "I didn't think we'd make it past tea time."

"I was behaving myself," Louis explains with a soft laugh, kissing Bradley again then gesturing to the bed. "On your back, legs and arms to the four corners," he says, cock jerking sharply with the knowledge of what's coming.

A little startled--he'd been expecting to be put on his face, and right quickly--Bradley still does as he's ordered, scrambling up onto the bed, spreading himself out like a starfish, flushing all the way down his chest with how exposed he is, now. His cock is stiff, leaking on his belly, and his balls are already drawn up tight against his body; he's been hard for a long time, today, and he's on a hair-trigger, he just knows it.

"Beautiful," Louis murmurs, watching Bradley. He walks around the bed to the nightstand and opens the top drawer, the one with the first aid kit, and pulls out two sets of padded cuffs, unclipping them so he has four separate ones. A leather cock ring, snappable, follows, dropped on the nightstand beside Bradley's head, and two clamps, light ones where he can adjust the tension, and a medium-sized black anal plug. "Have you ever used one of these?" he asks, holding it up for Bradley to see.

Eyes even wider than before, Bradley shakes his head where it rests against the bedspread. "Dildos and vibrators," he rasps out. "Never one of those before. It's pretty big." He keeps glancing between Louis and the wicked-looking little pile of toys, gleaming in the low light. His mouth is dry and his belly is tight with tension, and his hands clench and unclench with the effort he's making to stay still, not squirm, not move around like his naturally restless, active body wants to.

"Not as big as my cock," Louis teases, picking up the cock ring and climbing onto the bed, between Bradley's thighs.

"That's true," Bradley grants, craning his head up to watch what Louis is doing. Even the feel of skin-on-skin when Louis settles between his spread thighs is enough to make his cock jump with his pulse, red and hard as steel.

Louis wraps the leather band around Bradley's balls and the base of his cock, fastening the snap tight but not too tight, his eyes flickering from his hands to Bradley's face and back again. "How does that feel?"

The feel of his balls being pulled down, stretched, pressed against his cock is a new one, and the tight pressure around the base of his cock is strange, but incredibly sexy. Bradley blinks a few times as he processes the new sensations. "Feels good," he says quietly, finally. "Like a hand, almost, but rougher. It hurts a little but in a good way."

Louis nods. "Good. That's how it should feel," he assures him. He reaches for the padded cuffs, fastening each around a wrist or ankle before attaching the other end to the bedposts, the links shortened enough to give Bradley some room to move and not fatigue too quickly but still have him definitely restrained.

Unable to resist, Bradley tugs gently on the arm restraints, then a little harder, before giving up and letting his arms fall back on to the bed. His legs are next, and he even throws his hips into it; the bedframe is solid, though, and the restraints don't give an inch. He's panting a little when he subsides, his head starting to swim with it, that deep calm floating feeling already starting inside him.

Chuckling softly, Louis shakes his head. "You're not getting out," he says softly, bracing his hands on either side of his shoulders and dipping down to kiss Bradley, hard, teeth nipping sharply at that pouty lower lip. "Not until I let you out, and I haven't even started."

"Just checking," Bradley breathes against his mouth. "Wouldn't be any fun if I could just break them. This is fun, though. Very fun." In a way that's brand-new to him, too, twisting up his insides, and he's awfully glad of the cock ring. He shivers at the slick nip of those white teeth, and tips his head back instinctively, baring his throat.

Kissing a soft path down that mostly unmarked skin, Louis moves lower, flicking his tongue over Bradley's left nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking lightly.

Though his nipples have never been very sensitive, Bradley's entire skin feels alive with nerve endings right now...he sucks in a breath as he feels the warm mouth close around the little nub, sighing at the pleasure.

Back and forth between nipples, Louis sucks and licks and bites at both nubs until they're wet and red and rigidly hard.

Finally giving in to the urge, Bradley twists under Louis, up into the wonderful weight of his body, rubbing hips up against his chest, struggling a little to get one leg up and around him before remembering that he's bound. That makes him moan, helpless against the sensation that he's unable to move, that he's at Louis's mercy. That he has no control over what happens next at all.

Bradley'd enjoyed being spanked, and fucked, but Louis still isn't sure about the depths of his masochism, and the clamps are one way of finding out. He reaches over and picks up the first one, tweaking Bradley's nipple to its hardest point before clipping it on, his eyes locked on Bradley's, eager for his reaction.

Bradley sucks in a huge breath at the sudden, burning pain. His eyes go huge and he holds his breath, letting it out explosively after the first red wash of agony has passed. He thinks he's probably lucky that he's never been sensitive there or he'd be jumping out of his skin; as it is, the pinch and bite and low, slow burn just makes him even more aroused, even more needy, and his next breath comes out on a moan. "Oh god...feels so good..."

"Yes?" Louis smiles, pinching Bradley's other nipple to stiffness and applying the second clamp, his own cock so hard already that he can barely breathe.

The second clamp is less of a surprise but no less painful, and it's like a live wire has been run between his nipples. He's never been so aware of them in his life, all his attention on the throbbing, burning feeling, so tiny and focused but so powerful. He's broken out in a sweat, the pain sliding through him like an aphrodisiac, making him toss his head against the bed and moan again, a hoarse, needy sound.

"You like that, don't you?" Louis murmurs, not really expecting an answer, not a verbal response anyway, and the physical one he's getting is crystal clear as they say. He runs his fingers lightly over the clamps, back and forth from one to the other, twisting them gently, careful not to push too hard too soon. And then he's reaching back up, over Bradley's head, their cocks brushing, for the plug and a packet of lube.

Bradley can't really focus enough to talk; the shock of feeling when Louis's cock drags over his own sets him shivering and bucking against the restraints. He'd almost forgotten, in the focus on his nipples, about the rest of his body, but now it all comes roaring back and he's almost in overload. He closes his eyes tightly, breathing slowly just to get himself back under control, even as he listens to Louis moving around over him.

"I want you to relax for me," Louis tells him, wickedly brushing their cocks together once more before kneeling back between his legs. "This is going to feel very different from the dildos and vibrators you've used before," he warns, slicking the plug with a thick layer of lube. "The bottom flares and it's going to feel like it's stretching you open, like you won't be able to take it all, but you will," he promises, spreading Bradley's cheeks with one hand and putting the tip to his hole, and slowly, so slowly beginning to push it into him.

Listening and nodding, Bradley has steadied his breathing to a point where he's more relaxed, even when Louis teases his cock again. The descriptive words give him a moment to prepare, and he's so grateful that Louis is telling him what's happening as he goes; it keeps him calm, keeps him in the moment, and reminds him that he's in good hands.

The best hands, he's starting to think.

As the plug presses into his sore hole, he starts to whimper and thrash a little again. Already red and raw, the stretching burns in a totally different way than the clamps, a spiky shock that twists up his spine. He tries to raise his knees, pull his legs up to ease the entrance, but his bindings keep him flat on the bed. He has to lie there, has to endure this, and he sobs once before relaxing and just letting it happen. Pain and all.

When it gets to what must be the widest point--it has to be, he'll be split open if it isn't--he screams, but doesn't move, not even to fight the cuffs, cock completely wet at the tip, totally drowning in the sensations.

"That's it. Good boy," Louis murmurs, steadily pushing the plug in until Bradley has all of it, his hole clamped down tight around the neck, the base flat between his cheeks. "There you go." Palm pressing against the end, rocking it into him, knowing there's no way Bradley would have made it to this point without the cock ring.

The inexorable, inescapable stretch finally eases as the plug slides home, settling into his body like it was made for him. As Louis moves it back and forth, pressing against his prostate again and again, Bradley's chest heaves with his gasping breaths. He's strung thin as a quivering wire, hanging from the cuffs, sunk down so deep inside himself that it's all he can do to keep breathing, keep riding the waves of sensation that are crashing over and over him. His lips are red and puffy from where he's been biting them, his eyes nearly closed, and he moves as Louis moves him, passive and receptive.

Louis sits back on his heels, watching for a moment, taking in the sight before him, his own cock hard, red, leaking, his hands stroking up the insides of Bradley's thighs. "You are so beautiful," he whispers, letting his fingertips tease over Bradley's balls before shuffling lower on the bed, his head dipped, mouth placed on the skin where his hands have already been, licking and sucking and nibbling and biting his way up the inside of Bradley's leg to his upper thigh.

After the sharp bite of the clamps and the burning stretch of the plug, Louis's hands and mouth are like soothing cool water...no less pleasurable, just another delicious sensation to process. The tension in Bradley eases as he relaxes, again, letting go of the tight-strung tension. He moans, whimpers, even cries out when the fingers touch his sac, swollen and hot from constriction by the ring. He gets his eyes open, wanting to see, wanting to process this with all his five senses, even if touch is overwhelming everything else.

"You're gorgeous," he murmurs back, words almost slurred, but still understandable. "So good. Amazing."

"So are you," Louis says, lifting his head for a moment before moving his mouth up the inside of the other leg, his teeth leaving marks in the skin that he knows will bruise, each carefully placed so Bradley won't have to explain them at work. "And you taste good. So good." His mouth hovering over Bradley's balls now, blowing on them, tongue flickering out to taste, tease, lick along the edge of the leather band binding them.

Bradley's mouth is hanging a little open as he struggles to keep breathing. The feelings are so heightened that every breath, every touch, hits him hard, and he instinctively tries to reach for Louis's head, to touch his hair, urge him closer. He's brought up with a jerk at the end of the cuffs, and hisses his frustration, hips lifting as much as they can, begging for more. Of course, that moves the plug, which rubs his prostate, and he's back down flat on the bed instantly, gasping, mind a complete blank. He can't believe he hasn't come yet. He can't believe Louis's patience. He can't believe how hard he is and how turned on he is and how intense this is and how much he loves it, loves it, wants it to keep going on and on even as he's praying to be let come.

Bradley's struggles only serve to feed Louis's arousal and he smiles, eyes dark as he moves upwards, tongue swirling around the tip of Bradley's cock before he closes his mouth over the head and sucks.

Bradley's cock has been hard for so long now that it *hurts,* the skin stretched tight and shiny-slick over the head, and he yanks HARD on all four cuffs as Louis takes it into his mouth. "FUCK! Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck..." he's shouting, babbling, twisting against the restraints. Anything so he can thrust, get more friction from that hot mouth, get more suction, get more *anything.* He's out of his mind, completely lost, and loving every second.

Louis pulls back, keeping to the head alone until Bradley settles a little and then, relaxing his throat, he slides down, taking him deep and then deeper still.

That insane heat takes him in, all the way to the root, and Bradley's so close to coming he can *taste* it. He can actually feel the orgasm starting, but it's blocked by the ring. He's been in it so long that it's tighter even than when Louis first put it on, and he's wildly, irrationally grateful for it. He doesn't want to come yet. Doesn't want this to be over.

Still, he cries out at the frustrated pressure, the way his whole lower body seems to cramp and ache and lift. Twisting, he shifts the nipple clamps again, and this time his cry has a tang of real pain to it.

His head bobs up and down and his cock throbs roughly with every cry, Louis's own arousal spooling tighter and tighter. He teases Bradley, pushing the boy closer and closer to the edge until he can't stand it any longer, can't hold back, and then he's shifting upward again, straddling Bradley's chest, cock in hand, brushed over Bradley's lips. "Open," he demands.

Mouth dropping open instantly, Bradley licks greedily at the head of Louis's cock, craning his own neck so he can reach more, tongue lapping and licking like Louis is a delicious treat. He wants more, makes a little needy sound while he's still licking, hoping Louis will give him more.

Groaning raggedly, Louis feeds his cock into Bradley's mouth, tilting his hips and pushing deeper, one hand braced against the wall above the bed. "Oui, that's it," he murmurs, voice thick with need, with the flush of pleasure through his entire frame.

It's thick, heavy, tastes of salt and musk and Louis, and Bradley laps at it as it slides into his mouth, then latches on and sucks. Hollowing his cheeks, humming and snaking his tongue around the shaft, he feels the head gently bump the back of his throat. Fighting down the gag reflex he sucks even harder, head bobbing as much as he can with his limited range of motion. His mouth is wet, and feels swollen and perfect and so, so good.

Eyes half-closed, locked on those perfect lips, red and swollen, stretched around his hard aching flesh, Louis pushes deeper, feels the boy start to gag and pulls back just a little before thrusting again, three quick jerks of his hips before he's coming, thick and hard and heavy, flooding Bradley's throat.

Louis's cock pulses against Bradley's lips, and it's the only warning he gets before he's swallowing frantically, gulping, struggling to get it all down and breathe and by the time he swallows again, he's almost lightheaded. He keeps sucking, too, wanting the last bitter drops he can milk out of Louis's cock, and cleans him gently with his tongue, even as he softens in Bradley's mouth.

Good god. Louis tilts his head back, savouring the feel of Bradley's mouth around him, then finally, reluctantly, pulls out. He slips back down Bradley's body, mouth pressed to his ear, whispering, warning, "This is going to hurt, but when you get through the pain, I'll let you come," he promises, fingers reaching for the first clamp, the tension increasingly slightly in that moment before he releases it.

Bradley isn't experienced enough yet to know how to manage *this* level of pain, and he screeches and bucks as the clamp is taken off. Ten times worse than when it was put on, and he pants, staring at Louis with wide, blank eyes, knowing there's another one. Knowing that it will hurt just as much. So close to the end of his endurance that he is shivering, now.

"One more. Last one," Louis promises, pushing no further, his body weight pinning Bradley to the mattress as he reaches under them with one hand, fingers unsnapping the cock ring at the very moment he releases the clamp.

"AAAGH," Bradley can't keep it in anymore as the last clamp comes off and is very grateful they're not in his hotel. The pain is sharp, so intense he sees flashing lights for just a moment, but the simultaneous release of the confining pressure on his cock confuses the signals to his brain.

Pain is translated as pleasure. Nerves fire, off-schedule. Slow, sluggish, almost as if pushing through a heavy weight, he starts to come. His hips jerk up, up, up against Louis's body, cock rubbing through the wiry trail of hair on his belly, and with that last rough contact his balls contract and it's like flipping a switch. This time the sound he makes is raw, pure pleasure, mindless as he ruts through his orgasm.

Distantly, he realizes that Louis timed it precisely for this very thing, that he wants the clamps back, now, when he'd not been sure before, that the two are linked together. The agony and the orgasm, together. He feels like he's coming forever, and when he's done, he collapses like a hollow shell, completely spent.

It's mind-blowing, watching - and feeling - Bradley come apart like that.

Finally, releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Louis kisses him, softly, lips brushed across lips, whispering terms of endearment, of reassurance in both languages, confident it's the tone that matters, the affection and concern behind them. He works quickly to unhook Bradley's arms and legs from the bedposts, their bodies entwined as he unbuckles the cuffs and shoves everything from the bed, wrapping himself around the boy. "Good boy," he whispers, kissing him again, the covers pulled around them both. "You were so good for me."

Bradley murmurs wordlessly and curls as close to Louis as he can physically get, his shoulders stiff but not painful, still deep in that dreamy place where Louis has taken him. His eyes are still closed, even, and he presses his mouth, his nose, into Louis's neck and chest, tasting and scenting him, listening to the warm flow of words and feeling the stroking hands. Just soaking it all in, balm to his raw nerves and scrambled thoughts.

He hears the "good boy" and relaxes even more, a little smile on his mouth. He'd done well, pleased Louis. It makes him warm in places he didn't even know he had, hearing that.

Louis rubs Bradley's back, holds him close, the lack of penetration, of condom, meaning there's no rush to move, to clean up, nowhere to go, nothing except this quiet, warm, patient waiting for Bradley to slowly come back up, come back to himself, for him to suggest the next move in how he eventually responds.

Even though he's resisting it, the real world gradually starts to filter back in to Bradley. With a long, shuddering sigh, he finally opens his eyes, blinking a little. Louis is the only thing he can see, they're pressed so closely together, and that's the most wonderful thing. He finds himself smiling, maybe a little goofily. Shifting, testing how he feels. No worse than before, though his nipples sting a bit.

He feels good. Tired. High as a kite, almost certainly.

He tilts his head to meet Louis's eyes, still smiling. "Hi," he says, not letting go where he's holding on tight.

Louis smiles back. "Hi." He tilts forehead against forehead then kisses Bradley softly on the mouth. "How do you feel?"

Bradley kisses back. "I feel...funny. Kind of stoned. Every time I move the plug is still getting me, too, it's...good. Even after everything." He's kind of surprised he's not just numb. "I feel good." It's true. He's nearly tingling with aftershocks, still. "How about you?"

"Very, very good," Louis answers. "I wasn't sure how this would go, how far I could push you... but it felt like we were in sync, the way you responded to everything," he smiles. "It was perfect."

"I can't believe I liked it that much," Bradley confesses, still talking slowly and softly, still coming back to himself. "I *loved* it. Everything. Even at the end I didn't want to stop. I'm glad you did for me 'cause I'm so tired, and I didn't even know it."

Louis nods. "Playing like this is very tiring, especially when you are new to it, and you may even feel almost jet-lagged tomorrow," he says, wanting to make sure Bradley's forewarned. "It's the endorphins, the adrenaline, the chemicals in your brain, they get fired up and mixed around and then you try to go back to normal and sometimes they react rather sluggishly."

"Oh. Makes sense. Seems an all right price to pay, really, since I don't think I've come that hard...ever in my life," Bradley admits. He carefully moves a little, stretching his arms and testing them, relieved that the stiffness is already gone. He doesn't even have any marks on his wrists, the cuffs were so soft. "That was clever, right at the end, what you did. I was worried, a bit, that when it came time to doing instead of just imagining, the stuff that really hurts, that I wouldn't like it so much, but...it was the opposite." He smiles at Louis again. "You definitely proved it, the best way possible."

That gets a soft almost-self-deprecating chuckle. "I did that because the way you responded to the first one coming off, I thought you might never let me touch you again if I didn't," Louis says, gently tugging Bradley even closer and kissing him again. "But I suppose I shouldn't tell you these things - simply let you think it's part of my brilliant plan?"

"Oh yes, just let me ooh and aah at your genius," Bradley giggles a little, warmed through by the closeness and the kiss. He never wants to move. Wants to stay like this forever, with possible breaks for more sex. "And...even the first one, it still felt good. I just, it was so new, I think my body just went on without me there for a moment. I'd *never* stop wanting you to touch me, god, that was beyond brilliant. My mind still isn't working quite right, and I don't care, and I just want to see what else there is that I've never felt before. It's amazing."

"Well, I leave for New York on Tuesday and tomorrow and Monday will be filled with all the things I have to do here in preparation but when I get back," he kisses Bradley again, simply because he can. "When I get back, I'll show you more. And we'll spend tonight together, at your hotel, and you can keep that plug in until the morning, unless you need to use the washroom."

Bradley flushes a little at the idea of keeping the plug in all night. It's surprisingly comfortable, a solid weight inside him, except when he moves and it brushes his prostate, sending a flare of pleasure through him. "That sounds great. It'll be strange, after spending all these days together, having you gone so quick. Guess I'd better give you my cell number, yeah? You can ring me when you get back." Determined not to sound too needy, even though he can't bring himself to move even an inch from Louis, still dealing with the aftermath of the scene.

Louis nods. "And you have my card still? The number on the back is my personal cell," he says. "It's always on and you can call me, day or night, if you need me or have any questions."

"Yeah. I've put it in my phone already," Bradley admits. "Hey, if one of my bruises goes nuclear, I'll call you right away. You just never know, right?" He grins to show that he's kidding. Sort of. What if something goes wrong with one of his nipples? Not exactly something he can ask the on-set medic about.

Louis laughs. "No, you don't," he says, thoroughly enjoying the way Bradley's both serious about this, and not. "And if you can't get me, you can call the other number, the one on the front, and you'll get Marie. She'll be able to hunt me down."

"That's good, then," Bradley nods, and sighs, settling his head down on the pillow. His eyes feel like they have weights on them, pulling the lids down, and he's suddenly feeling every little twinge, as the last of the endorphins and adrenaline start to wear off. "I feel terrible, but I think I've got to crash. Just for a bit. And then water, right? And then we can go back to the hotel for a proper sleep..." he's interrupted by a huge yawn.

"Water first," Louis corrects, starting to straighten out their tangled limbs. "Then you can sleep for a bit."

"Noooo," Bradley grumbles, clinging like a monkey, stubbornly closing his eyes. "Why not sleep first?"

"Because it helps rebalance your system," Louis says firmly. "I'll be right back," he promises, reluctantly working his way free from Bradley with a mental note to himself to put the water beside the bed before they even start from now on.

"Ugh." It's cold and lonely in the big bed without Louis, and Bradley flops over on his back, taking the chance to stretch out all four limbs, arching his back...and freezing when the plug digs itself against his prostate. Much more carefully, he settles back down, reaching greedily for the water when Louis offers it, despite his protests.

"All right, you were right about that one," he admits reluctantly, after draining nearly a full glass. "That's much better. I should probably just stop arguing."

"Yes, you should," Louis says, laughing, his eyes sparkling. He ruffles Bradley's hair and takes the glass back, setting it on the nightstand, and crawls under the covers beside him, pressing close again. "You do realize that we're going to have to work something out," he teases. "I have a feeling come winter, we'll be very reluctant to get out of this bed and drive back to yours."

"I absolutely agree," Bradley says fervently, snuggled nicely into the cloud-soft bedding, the exquisitely comfortable bed, the gorgeous man beside him. "I think you'll agree even more once you experience the wonders of the hotel room bed I've been blessed with. If you have bruises after, from the broken springs, don't blame ME for them." He chuckles. "At least no one's even asked why we haven't come back to mine yet. Everyone else has the same beds too."

Louis laughs, tightening his arm around Bradley's waist and kissing his shoulder. "It wouldn't take that long for me to drive you to work in the morning," he says. "It's not that far out of the way." Adding quickly, "Not tonight, and it's not that I'm opposed to sleeping in your less-than-wonderful-sounding bed, but it's something to keep in mind."

Bradley chuckles again. "I do have a studio rental, you'd not need to drive ALL the time," he points out, enjoying the idea more and more. Especially as Louis is so free with the kisses, the touches, all the contact that Bradley loves so much. "I expect after a night in my less-than-wonderful bed, you'll agree that it's a great plan. Night shoots and things, and when you're working or away, well. Those are out for anything anyway." He glances at Louis. "I have no idea how often you'll want to see me when you get back," he confesses, "but I'm enjoying our time a lot. Anything that makes that go better is fine by me."

Having made plans for the future, even as vague they are, has Louis incredibly happy. "Good." He starts to ask how long Bradley will be in France, when their shooting wraps up, but instead kisses him again, softly, on the mouth, mindful of the late hour and the drive they still have ahead. "Sleep. We'll have plenty of time to talk when I get back."

"You sleep too," Bradley insists drowsily, "so you don't drive us off the cliff in that posh car of yours."

[feedback welcome. comments screened]

Louis and Bradley James (bjames): The Dinner

jennandanica@gmail.com — Fri, 15 Oct 2010 18:23:11 GMT

players only. backdated to the same day as Louis and Bradley first meet.

Bradley's never been more grateful for the lax enforcement of speed limits in France; he'd made it home in record time, showered, shaved, thrown half his wardrobe on the floor of his room looking for something tolerable to wear, and called in Angel for help. Once she'd finished laughing at him for his nerves, she'd helped him pick out a blue shirt and some decent trousers, and he'd sped his way back to Sarlat. The restaurant had been easy to find, and he's a full ten minutes early; a blessing, it'll let him get himself together and take a deep breath. This whole day has been completely bloody insane.

He's never lacked for self-confidence; quite the opposite, actually. But there's something about Louis, about the way he'd looked at Bradley, the calm strength of him, that has butterflies doing a dance in his stomach. He can't remember being this excited for a date in *ages* and he's just hoping he doesn't put the man off somehow. He knows he can come across a bit loud and laddish, but if Louis Garneau can look past (accidental) criminal trespass to invite him out, he hopes he'll be flexible there, too.

He leans back against the wall of the restaurant, watching the street, and waiting.

Louis leaves Citadel later than he'd like. Thankfully traffic into town is quieter at this hour and he makes it there and finds a parking spot with roughly five minutes to spare. He's still in his suit, having had no time to return to his quarters by the time he'd finished his meeting with the new group of trainees. He takes a good look in the rearview mirror, opens his jacket and gets rid of the tie. It's not his best look and not quite the impression he'd hoped to make this evening but it'll have to do. He walks the short distance down the main street, turning onto the pedestrian walkways and easing through the crowds until he comes out right in front of the restaurant, a broad smile creasing his lips as he sees Bradley there, already waiting. "Bonsoir," he says, clasping the other man's hands and kissing him on both cheeks. "You found it."

Louis smells *amazing,* is Bradley's only thought during the casual courtesy, and as he kisses back--the light, polite kisses of the Continental greeting--he surprises himself by wishing he could linger. Scolding himself for jumping the gun, he squeezes Louis's larger hands and then lets go, as good manners requires.

Louis looks as good as he smells, though much more formal than Bradley himself.

"I'm underdressed," he apologizes, glancing between them.

"No, you're not," Louis says firmly. "I didn't have a chance to change or I'd be in jeans," he explains with a smile. "So I'm actually overdressed."

"Well, that's definitely a relief," Bradley laughs, though it's hard to imagine this polished man wearing something casual. "I'm in a full suit of armor half the day at work, so I'm more likely to go for comfortable on the off-hours. I play King Arthur in a tv programme," he adds hastily, realizing he'd never actually said so. "I don't wear armor as a usual sort of thing. Just to be clear. Um. Should we go in?"

"Yes. I already called ahead and made a reservation," Louis says, gesturing for Bradley to lead the way and waving to the owner as they enter. "And I know. I googled you," he adds with a smile.

Bradley laughs again, and shakes his head a little. "What on earth did we do before Google?" he asks rhetorically. He's so busy watching Louis that he barely even notices the lovely interior of the restaurant; he can't seem to tear his eyes away. He's a little turned on just watching the man *walk* and that's crazy. "I have to admit, I Googled you, too, but didn't get a single hit. Rather disappointing, that, considering you've a resort and all. I should have guessed, from the security guards, I suppose, that you'd be private online as well."

Louis smiles, taking a moment to shake Pierre's hand and introduce to Bradley to the owner before they're seated. "Yes, you're right. I - I keep my life very private. I'm sure I'm on there somewhere but it's more likely to be connected with my family's interests and our charitable organizations than anything personal."

"I didn't look all that hard. Didn't have much time, and anyway, I like a good mystery," Bradley answers, sliding in to his chair, glad they're in a small corner table where he can stare to his heart's content. Not in a creepy way, of course. And he's pretty sure Louis must be used to it, looking how he does. Still. "I'm in an industry full of pretty people," he finds himself saying candidly, "and you're one of the most gorgeous blokes I've ever seen. I can't quite believe you're out to dinner with me, and not home with a harem of models, or some such thing."

Hiding a slight smile behind his hand - if only Bradley knew - Louis chuckles softly and shakes his head. "Thank you, but I actually don't have much time for dating... I travel a lot and I tend to get swallowed up by my work." He quickly changes the subject. "What about you? Where is your family? Any brothers or sisters?"

"I've one sister," Bradley nods, smiling fondly as he thinks of her. "We're close, and my mum and dad too. They're back in Devon, still live in the house I grew up in. I visit when I can, quite a bit actually. With our shooting schedule as it is, it's good to have them right across the Channel." He leans back in his chair, gets a little comfortable. He can tell that Louis is older than he is, and probably rather more sophisticated, too; if he admits it to himself, that's part of the appeal. He feels very young, suddenly, and enjoys the little tingle of pleasure he gets from the way Louis watches him.

"You? You're not locked up in that great mansion all alone with your--very nice, by the way--personal assistant? You have family and such, running the place?"

Louis flags down the waiter and orders a bottle of the house red after checking with Bradley. "I'm an only child but my father sits on the board of directors and my parents' estate is nearby," he explains, careful with his words and what he reveals. "Marie, my assistant, and I each have our own quarters at the castle but I have flats in New York and L.A. as well." He smiles. "The castle actually has a lot of people working and staying there. I don't ever feel like I'm on my own really."

"Huh." That's quite a few words with very little specific information, Bradley notices, but he's trying not to pry or be nosy on his very first date. He would, after all, like there to be a *second* date. "Flats in New York and LA? Very posh. Maybe I should've gone into resort management, instead of acting...nah," he decides, after a pause for thought. "I love it too much. How many guys you know get to dress up in armor and ride horses around a fantastic medieval castle all day as part of their job? I mean honestly, it's the best gig going." He sips his wine. He has no idea if it's good or not, but it tastes fine.

"As long as there's no husband or wife waiting for you back at home, that's cool. I'm not much into being the secret 'other woman.' It happens more than you'd think, in the acting business." He's not permanently scarred or anything, but he *is* careful, now, like he wasn't before.

Louis laughs at the idea. "No, there's no one waiting at home," he says, shaking his head, amused at the idea of himself with a wife or husband. "There's... someone special, but they're very seriously involved with someone else, so no, no real attachments."

"Ouch," Bradley winces a little, sympathetic. "Sorry to hear that. I've just been getting past something similar." There's a wry twist to his mouth, now, as he thinks about Colin. "Turns out he's straight. Very straight. He was decent about it, but that doesn't make it sting any less, after I'd built it all up in my head."

"At least he was understanding," Louis says, pausing for a moment while the waiter stops by to take their order. "I guess I should ask whether we need to be careful? You accepted my dinner invitation but I didn't see anything when I looked you up."

"Sort-of, careful, I suppose," Bradley says after ordering off what looks like a deliciously diverse menu. "Everyone I work with, my family, everyone like that knows. I'm not public, though. I'm just getting started, my agent might kill me. It's the sort of thing where if someone asked, I'd never lie, though." He shrugs. "These days it's not the career death it once was, but I've heard too many horror stories, and I'm no activist. Just want to do my job and play my parts, and let everything else sort itself. It'd be different if I were a pro footballer. Almost was, but then I realized acting was more my speed."

"Do you still play?"

"Oh yeah, all the time," Bradley enthuses, taking another mouthful of wine and savoring it. "I play for a local club when I can, and in charity matches, that sort of thing. Always been a bit small for the pros, anyway, but I like to keep my hand in as much as I can. Running every day, kicking around with the other guys on set, staying fit." He grins. "Since we're on a date, it's my turn again. You have any hobbies? Into films, or sport?"

"I read and play chess, swim, run. I like old movies - mysteries, thrillers. Again, my work keeps me very busy so I don't have a lot of spare time," Louis says, wondering if he's really as boring as he sounds. At least when you leave out Citadel.

"A workaholic," Bradley muses, and then has to sit back as the waiter comes with their food. He makes happy noises as he tastes his food, sliding the fork gently out of his mouth and hoping Louis is watching (he does, after all, know what his own best points are).

"You're a workaholic and a runner. You'd be a natural at football. You should come out and give it a try, we have pickup matches on slow days." He'd also get a chance to show off his own skills, but really, that's secondary to the excuse of seeing Louis again. "And I've always wanted to learn how to play chess. I don't know that I've really a strategic mind, though. Straight ahead, that's me."

Mon dieu. That mouth might be the death of him. "There's nothing wrong with that but I could still try and teach you - and you could teach me football." Louis smiles, spearing another piece of cured ham with his fork. "Did you say you have tomorrow off?"

"Not off, not really, just a late call," Bradley says regretfully. "Day after is Saturday though, and I've got that off entirely. There might even be a pick-up match, and time for chess." He glances at Louis with a little smile curling one corner of his mouth, as he takes another bite. "Guess that means I haven't driven you off just yet," he supposes, "if you're asking about my schedule. Yeah?"

Louis gives a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Why would you think you might drive me off?"

"Well, y'know," Bradley waves a hand around. "Don't get me wrong, I'm all right. I do okay. But I showed up in your office covered in dirt and bracken, and play footie on the weekends when I'm not lying about in my shorts drinking a beer, and you're terribly posh. International jetsetter with flats all over the world, running resorts. I'm not complaining, mind. If you're interested then well done, me, and I'll run with it." He flashes Louis his very best wicked grin. "I guess I had no idea it'd go so well, that's all."

"Well, first of all, I think you look good even covered in dirt," Louis says with a smile, taking another sip of wine. "And I like the way you handled yourself today. You could have whined, you could have given us attitude, but you didn't. Plus..." he adds, dropping his voice a little, "you've got a gorgeous mouth and I like men who are smaller than me." Boys. Which Bradley may very well not be. But then again, it's been a very long time since Louis has been on a date of any kind. And he's rather enjoying it.

Bradley drops his head a little, flushing at the praise. "I'm quite fond of men who are bigger than me," he admits, smiling down at his own wineglass. "Nice how that works out, isn't it?" He chances a glance at Louis, and smiles wider seeing the heat in the other man's eyes. "Thank you," he adds, then his smile turns to a grin. "You should see me in lipstick!"

Louis raises an eyebrow at that. "Do you make a habit of wearing lipstick?"

Laughing, Bradley shakes his head. "I'm surprised you didn't see, if you Googled. I dressed up in drag for Halloween and the photos ended up online...rather silly photos, actually, since I was going for goofy instead of glam. But no, not really. Except what they have me wear on-set." He cocks his head, curious. "I'm pretty easy-going though, depending on what my partner likes. Do you make a habit of dating fellows in lipstick?"

"Not as a rule," Louis replies honestly, "but it's not something that would turn me off - depending on the fellow." His trousers tightening slightly at the thought of Bradley in full drag. Interesting, given that it's not something he's ever thought of as one of his kinks. "What about you? What kind of men do you make a habit of dating?"

"Well," Bradley considers, laying down his fork after taking his last bite, leaning back and sipping his wine again (how is it never empty?). "I like tall and dark, of course, who doesn't? I spend so much time running and playing ball, I like blokes who're athletic types, just so we have that in common."

He debates revealing his preference for take-charge men who won't hesitate to apply a firm hand, but thinks to himself that that's really more a second--or third!--date sort of discussion.

"Other than that, really, it's all just chemistry, isn't it? Attraction and that click."

"Most definitely," Louis agrees, placing his cutlery across his plate and leaning back as well. Resisting the urge to reach across the table and brush the hair out of Bradley's eyes. "You're twenty-six?"

"It's true," Bradley says, nodding. "But depending on where you got your info, I'm not anywhere close to six feet tall. And since I couldn't find you anywhere online, you'll have to just tell me your age, I guess?"

Louis laughs. "I noticed that." He smiles, pouring them the last of the wine. "I'm thirty-three. I turn thirty-four in December." Glancing up at Bradley to catch his reaction.

He's always had a thing for older men. They have a depth and experience that he looks for in his relationships, so hearing Louis's age makes Bradley smile with pleasure. "I turn 27 on October 11th," he confesses. "But depending on how things go, I'm starting to feel like I might've gotten my birthday present early this year." He holds out his glass to touch it to Louis's, a little celebration of how much fun he's having.

Clinking their glasses together softly, Louis nods. "Maybe, but I expect we can still do better," he says. "Would you care for some ice cream? They make some really incredible sundaes here."

"I would absolutely LOVE to have some ice cream," Bradley replies. "And if it comes in sundae form, so much the better. I must say, this birthday is looking better and better all the time. I mean, not that I'm expecting anything," he hastens to add. "One date isn't really a gift-giving stage."

Louis laughs, completely charmed. He waves over the waiter and asks for their plates to be cleared and dessert menus brought. "We'll see," he says, very mysteriously. "I still have a few days until your birthday."

Bradley laughs. "Well, *that's* certainly not mysterious and intriguing, or anything! And you haven't even kissed me yet! I might be awful, all slobbery and sloppy. You never know." He just can't stop smiling.

"If you are, I can always teach you not to be," Louis says, dark eyes sparkling wickedly.

"You've got magical powers, mate, if you can teach a bad kisser to be a good one," Bradley grins, shaking his head a little, feeling a frisson of heat once again under Louis's eyes. "I always thought it was native talent and skill, once you got to a certain point in life. I'm always up for taking instruction, but what happens if *you're* an awful kisser? What then? I'm awful at teaching, ask anyone."

"Well, if it weren't the fact that we're in a very public place right now, I'd show you and we could put your worries to rest."

"And if we weren't in a very public place, I'd participate willingly in that experiment," Bradley agrees, his belly tightening with arousal. It's going to be bad enough watching Louis eat a sundae without wanting to lick ice cream off his tongue; all this flirting has him turned on like he hasn't been in a very long time. He knows he's showing all the signs, he's never been subtle; knows that his pupils are probably blown wide and his face is flushed, and his hands won't stay still.

Mon dieu. It's all Louis can do to keep from suggesting they save dessert for another time. "You'd better order then," he says, passing over the dessert menu as the waiter drops it off, "so we can... find ourselves a less public place." He already knows what he wants. Sundae-wise too.

Bradley cocks his head. "I'm trying to decide if you're a chocolate man, or more vanilla," he says, mock-seriously. "If I'm ordering, it's important to make sure it's something you like. So you'll eat it quickly. And we can get somewhere...less public. As you said."

"And what have you come up with?" Louis asks, unable to stop smiling, refusing to give Bradley any hints.

"It's hard to say, since I can't tell if what I want is influencing what I see," Bradley admits frankly. "I think...I think chocolate. And caramel. And whipped cream, but that last one might be a longshot since you're a runner and runners can be funny about toppings." He grins a little. "I'll hold off to see how that one goes, but I think I'll chance it and order with the whipped cream AND a cherry."

"That sounds wonderful." Louis motions to the waiter and lets Bradley order. "I usually order the death by chocolate. Marie wouldn't approve if she knew but everything in moderation, yes?"

"And doing it someplace where prying eyes can't see," Bradley agrees as soon as he's ordered, wincing a little as he imagines what Angel would say. When he'd twisted his ankle the year before and hadn't been able to move, he'd packed on almost twenty pounds, and his ears are still ringing from Wardrobe's opinions on having to re-size "Prince Arthur's" rather elaborate armor. He's naturally stocky anyway, though, and now that he's back in action he can eat how he likes. "Death by chocolate? How...decadent."

Louis smiles. "Yes, I suppose it is," he says with a small nod, watching Bradley closely. "But I've always found that if you have a craving for something, it's better to give in and have the real thing than settle for a pale imitation."

Bradley's eyes nearly close as he just lets himself ride that wave of innuendo. He's got no real idea what they're talking about, or if they're on the same page with the whole chocolate/vanilla analogy, but just imagining this man having him, naked, across his lap makes his hips buck up in a tiny, instinctive motion, his cock rigid against his fly. "True," he gets out, hoarsely. "Of course, if you've only the pale imitation--you've eaten chocolate in Los Angeles? You know what I mean--you take what you can get, most times. At least, I do. Better than nothing."

"I'm surprised," Louis says rather bluntly, honestly, noting the signs of arousal. He can almost smell it on the - no, not boy, he reminds himself. He has to be careful here. Bradley's an unknown quantity, despite his reactions so far. "You don't strike me as someone who would - or should have to - settle."

"Thank you," Bradley replies simply, taking it for the compliment it clearly is, and shaking himself a little, back to alertness. "Eh, I'm young yet, nevermind the birthday. Haven't had much time for real relationships as such, so I dip my toes into pools and then I'm off again. Or I have, in the past, anyway. Now that I've a regular job, a career, even, I am looking for something a bit more...substantial."

Dessert arrives, with two spoons, and Louis gestures for Bradley to go ahead. "I have a number of friends who have settled down in the last few years. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only hold out," he says with a soft laugh, draining his wineglass.

"I haven't gotten there yet," Bradley says, taking hold of his spoon and digging in to the absolutely sinful sundae with delight. "Oh god this is good. Anyway, I only had to go to one wedding this year, but there are two next, and a baby on the way for one of my high school mates. It was a bit of a shock, that. I guess for me it's more that I'm tired of settling. I want to find someone really compatible, not just okay for a quick shag, but interesting enough for repeat performances, you know?"

Louis nods. "Yes, I do. Unfortunately, in my case, I travel with my work so much..." he trails off, not quite sure what he wants to say. "I'm not sure I make good 'relationship' material." And really, it's probably unfair of him to pretend any differently.

"That's all right, though, isn't it?" Bradley smiles, comfortable. "As long as you're clear going in, and there's no mixed signals, nothing wrong with it. Me, now, I'm in the same boat. If a job takes me to, I don't know, New Zealand or something, off I fly. Any relationship I had, it'd have to be able to accommodate that sort of thing." It's not like he's looking to get married, here, anyway. At this point, he'd be delighted with anything that wasn't a one-nighter or a casual, vanilla shag.

"It sounds like we're starting out from the same place then." Louis smiles, picking up his spoon and finally digging into the ice cream. "Besides, we might be getting ahead of ourselves." He grins. "I could still turn out to be a lousy kisser."

"And I could be a hideously bad shag," Bradley laughs, pointing his spoon at Louis as punctuation. "You just never know. I'm generally more of a go-with-the-flow type, anyway. My mum used to say there's no point borrowing trouble ahead of time, you'll have plenty when it arrives."

"Your mother sounds like a very smart woman," Louis observes, slowly sucking the ice cream from his spoon.

"Mm-hmm," Bradley agrees absently, watching Louis's mouth and that spoon and the ice cream and the whole thing is just stupidly hot, like a really good porno or something. He licks chocolate fudge off his own lower lip carelessly, then takes another bit himself. Two can play this game, and he licks the spoonful before finishing the bite.

Groin tightening, Louis lets out a deep breath. "Tease," he murmurs, eyes sparkling.

"You started it," Bradley fires back, then smiles wickedly around the next spoonful of ice cream.

"Me?" Louis grins, slouching a little in his seat, and letting his knee press against the inside of Bradley's thigh. "Surely not."

*Contact,* the first real touch they've had since greeting outside, and it spikes up Bradley's spine fast enough to make his head spin. If Louis can do this to him just with a brush of their legs, what would it be like naked? He has to wonder, and then refocus, so he can remember how to talk. "Yes, you," he says even more firmly, scooping ice cream with one hand, sliding the other under the table to rest on Louis's leg, just there, above the knee.

It's giddy and fun, like he's back in school, flirting over ice cream. "You're a terrible influence," he informs Louis, gesturing again with the spoon, not minding that melted ice cream hits the table. He can feel hot skin under expensive suit-fabric.

Louis shakes his head. "Not yet, I'm not," he says softly, muscle tensing under Bradley's palm. "Not until I tell you I think we've both had too much to drink to drive safely home and that I have a flat here in town..."

"I suppose," Bradley says, like he's thinking about it, like he's hesitating at *all*, "I suppose it would be a good idea. To find out if you're a good kisser. Before we waste any more time, of course. Wouldn't do to have that happen." He laughs a little breathlessly, slides his hand further up Louis's leg, and sets his spoon down in the empty ice cream bowl.

"That was delicious."

Suddenly Louis is extremely thankful for his suit jacket. "I'm glad you think so. This is one of my favourite places." He waves at the waiter; mimes signing the bill. "What time do you have be on set tomorrow?"

"Late call," Bradley says, "so not until around thirteen hundred hours. I do need to check in, though." He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, waves it in demonstration. "Proof to my mates that you're not abducting me. They were all a-flutter at the thought of the handsome mysterious stranger, but even though I said you looked completely normal, they're a bit paranoid. Going on about whips and chains and dungeons and things. Daft, but there you have it."

"Of course," Louis says, actually quite happy to know that Bradley has friends watching out for him. "I understand perfectly. I need to call Marie and have her reschedule a few appointments as well." He smiles. "Go ahead and call, I'll take of this," he says as the waiter comes by with their bill.

"Thanks," Bradley says, already dialling as he slides out of the booth and heads towards the door, the better to chat with Angel for just a moment and tell her all about dinner, and that yes, he's staying, and to give her the location of the restaurant and a promise to call again in the morning. It's like having another mother, he thinks, snapping the phone shut, and turning just as Louis comes through the door.

He's tall, Bradley knew it, but this is a visceral reminder, having him so close and standing up. The lights of the restaurant filter through the windows, bright enough that Bradley can see the dark arch of an eyebrow, the slight curl of Louis's smile. Stepping in close, he tips his head back to meet Louis's eyes, one hand reaching for the other man's wrist, fingers touching just lightly. "No one around," he points out. "Think we could try that kiss?" He's nearly breathless with wanting it.

"Mais certainement," Louis murmurs, leaning in, his mouth pressing soft but firmly against Bradley's. And then he's cupping the back of Bradley's neck, deepening the kiss, tongue delving lightly between the other man's lips. Tasting the last of chocolate and caramel on him.

No hesitation, no pause, Louis just kisses him, and Bradley *melts* into it. There's a big, warm hand cradling his neck, keeping away the ache of the upward angle of the kiss, and Louis is solid and strong and hot against him. He crowds a little closer, welcoming that tongue in, his own flicking against it teasingly even as his hands creep under Louis's jacket, flat against the smoothness of his shirt where it drapes over the small of his back. Pressing and kneading a little as Bradley murmurs wordless pleasure into Louis's mouth.

When he pulls back he's breathing hard and nearly dizzy and is staring, he just knows it, but he can't help it. That was possibly the best kiss he's ever had. Definitely the best *first* kiss. His mouth feels hot and swollen and he licks his lips. Can't find any words.

His throat so dry it hurts by the time they part, Louis steps back, his hand sliding down Bradley's back. He takes his hand, lacing their fingers together and tugs gently, certain he'll ravish Bradley right here if they don't move now. "The flat's right around the corner."

"Right," Bradley says, dazed, and follows Louis's lead and the tug of his hand, walking at his side around the corner and to an old, solid wood door. Louis has a key and they're in, and there are these fantastic steps, like something out of a photo album, a steep spiral so tight that he's forced to let go Louis's hand and can just about touch the backs of his knees as he follows him up.

The lights are on but low and Bradley registers a gorgeous big loft of a flat, acres of open space, before focusing back in on his major interest. Who's shrugging out of his jacket, and that's a brilliant idea.

Yanking his jumper over his head, Bradley takes two quick steps closer to Louis, smiling brighter with each step. "I hope you won't take this the wrong way," he says, mock-seriously as he starts in on his flies, "but I'd very much like to lick you all over."

"I think that could be arranged," Louis says, smiling as he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs the fabric from his shoulders and arms. His eyes are all over Bradley and he's already so hard he aches.

"Fantastic!" Bradley says, and then throws his head back and laughs, just from the sheer joy of this. Still laughing, he pounces right at Louis, rolling them back onto the huge bed. He has the feeling Louis is startled, but he shrugs it off and dives in for a wicked, deep, intense kiss, the kind that has him struggling to undo his own flies with his one free hand.

Louis is startled but not for long. His hands slide down Bradley's back to his ass, cupping and grinding against him and he rolls them over, getting one leg between Bradley's thighs as he kisses him even harder, letting him feel just how much he wants him.

Chest to chest, bare skin to bare skin, it's completely delicious and Bradley relaxes down into the mattress, getting one leg up and around Louis's hip, pulling him even closer. Then their cocks line up *just right* and he's gasping, grinding up into that sweet sweet pressure.

"Wait...wait...I have to get these off..." his hand has nowhere to go, but he didn't bring a change of clothes, and he's badly in danger of coming before he can get naked, here.

Louis shakes his head. "Stay right there," he whispers, kneeling up. He pulls Bradley's jeans and boxer briefs down and off, drinking in the sight of the other man beneath him, and then he stands, draping them over the back of the nearby couch, and unfastens his own trousers, letting them drop to his feet before he tugs his own underwear down and off, his socks added to the pile.

More than happy to follow a command, Bradley sprawls out bonelessly, only lifting his hips when his jeans and boxer-briefs are tugged off. Then he watches, eyes half-lidded, as Louis strips himself, so quickly and efficiently that he almost misses the show.

The view underneath those posh clothes is even better than Bradley could've dreamed. His mouth practically starts watering. "Sweet buggering fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathes, though he doesn't move, unconsciously obeying Louis's order even now. He does spread his legs a little, wordless invitation for Louis to come back, please, right now, please.

"You're the gorgeous one." Louis gets back on the bed, his hands planted on either side of Bradley's hips, his eyes gone dark with lust and anticipation. "Every inch of you," he murmurs, dipping his head to flick his tongue across the tip of Bradley's cock.

Sucking in a great breath of air, Bradley braces himself as soon as he sees that dark head dip down, and it's still almost more than he can handle. Louis's hot, rough-wet tongue on him, contrasting with the cool air, it's so intense he has to close his eyes against the feeling. He threads his fingers into the cool softness of Louis's hair, not tugging, just stroking a little, playing.

"If I ask very nicely," he manages to rasp out, "do you think you might see your way clear to fucking me?" He's a bottom, an unrepentantly greedy one, and if Louis hasn't noticed that about him, he's not as perceptive as Bradley thinks he is. And he's desperate for that gorgeous cock he's only gotten a glimpse of so far.

Louis lifts his head and grins. "I think I might," he says, reaching up over Bradley to the nightstand beside the bed. He drops a condom beside them and tears open a packet of lube, unable to resist teasing. "You don't like my mouth?"

"No, no, I do, I really do," Bradley babbles, watching Louis's hands avidly, mouth open a little as he pants. "I just, god, want you. Mouths, mouths are brilliant, absolutely love them."

Louis grins, rather pleased with how thoroughly he seems to be scrambling Bradley's brain. "You can put that on me," he says, nodding at the condom and slicking his fingers, the two he was going to push into the boy reduced to one as he reminds himself to be careful, not assume, that Bradley might need or want some semblance of gentle. He works that one inside Bradley, slowly, working it in and out, testing his response.

Bradley just holds the condom for a long moment, unable to pull himself together enough to open the package as Louis's finger breaches into his body, slick and searching. It's a tease, not quite enough, and he makes a grumbling, discontented sound, pushing his hips down and looking for more. Even as his own hands tremblingly tear the condom packet, getting it ready to put on Louis's cock.

"Eager for more, aren't you?" Louis murmurs, giving Bradley that second finger and curling them both to rub over his prostate, scissoring and stretching the boy open.

"Oh yeah," Bradley moans, arching his hips up as those clever fingers hit his sweet spot, the condom dangling unwrapped from his fingers, mostly forgotten about as his head falls back and his eyes close involuntarily. "I love it...love that, yes. Oh FUCK yes."

Mesmerized by the look on Bradley's face, by those lips, so full and luscious, and that throat, pale and unmarked - mon dieu - Louis pushes a third finger in beside the first two, working them deeper, his knuckles grazing the boy's hole as he strokes them over that bundle of nerves again and again.

Three fingers and so fast, and something inside Bradley shivers with relief and delight and anticipation. He spreads himself out completely, the burn of those fingers countered by the gorgeous pleasure as Louis strokes his prostate. He's relaxing. Louis has taken this over, somehow, someway, he knew what Bradley wanted and what he needed and he's doing it, god, he's not even asking. Just going right in. Bradley makes a low hum of pleasure, deep in his throat, wriggles himself further down on those fingers, and revels in it.

The temptation to make Bradley beg is there, right there, but Louis resists, fucking him with his fingers, his own cock aching, hard, the tip wet against his thigh. "Is that it? Is this all you want?" he murmurs, grinning wickedly.

"N-no," Bradley breathes, "but it's a bloody good start. Oh my god, there's no way I can put this on you. I haven't got any bones right now. Oh that's good." He arches up again with a cry, when those fingers hit him just right and curl.

Bradley's never had any trouble making his wishes known or asking for what he wants. Some have even, occasionally, called him a bit spoilt. But he's a hairsbreadth from begging in a truly embarrassing way, and he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip, trying to keep it inside.

Louis chuckles softly, reaching over to pluck the condom from Bradley's hand. He tears it open with his teeth, keeping his fingers moving, unrolls it onto his cock single-handedly, and finally pulls his fingers free, lining his cock up with Bradley's hole and slowly pushing in. He curses under his breath, the tight heat making his head swim and his cock throb.

It's been ages since Bradley's been fucked; he doesn't generally fuck his casual tricks, leaving it to blow jobs and frotting and other fun things. But from the moment he'd seen Louis he'd wanted this, and even though it's on the razor's edge of painful, he gives a wordless shout, grabbing one of his own knees to pull it up and away, giving Louis space to come between his thighs.

And then he's in, and it hurts, but so, so good, and Louis is cursing and Bradley's echoing him, and he reaches up to cup Louis's leg and give a weak tug; he wants a kiss, but he knows Louis will have to come down to him.

Louis goes, but not immediately. First he pushes deep, in all the way, slowly sinking into Bradley's body, his eyes locked on the boy's face. Arousal feeding on the mix of pain and pleasure he sees on his features. But finally he braces one hand above Bradley's head and dips down, kissing him, mouth covering his, claiming it, tongue dipping in again and again.

It's like he's being taken over, invaded, tongue in his mouth and cock in his ass, and Bradley sinks into the gorgeous sensation of it all. He welcomes the kiss, bruising and hard, and he welcomes the flashes of pain as his muscles adjust to the intrusion. Louis is big, and he's tight, and the bright flashes of pain just serve to make everything *more*. He's curled up under Louis's weight, legs high along his sides, feeling the strain and pull in his muscles.

"You feel so good," Louis murmurs, breaking from the kiss for a moment, his hips drawing back before thrusting deep again. "Incredible." And he can't get enough, his body already starting to tighten even as he fights against it. Fucks Bradley harder, his cock plunged in hard over and over, that resistance easing with every push.

FUCK. Louis is setting a punishing rhythm from the first thrust and Bradley can feel his body fighting to keep up. He's sweating, his cock is rigid against his own belly, and every time Louis measures his own length into him, he can't help the little cry of painpleasurepain that hits his nervous system.

Even his hands take up the rhythm, tightening and relaxing where they're gripping Louis's upper arms, holding on for dear life. He's going to come, he's going to come and he hasn't even been touched. The long tease over dinner, the kisses, now this, and Louis's cock drags across his prostate again and it's over for him, embarrassingly quick, but blindingly intense all the same. He's coming, wetting his own skin, hips jerking against Louis's weight as he loses his grip and collapses back against the mattress.

It's like a wave crashing over him. The moment Louis feels the wet against his skin, it hits, and he's coming, hard, body seizing tight, hips stuttering through the last few thrusts until he stills, frozen, aftershocks trembling through him.

Bradley can feel it, almost like his body drags Louis with him over the edge. One moment he's convulsing, and the next he can feel Louis doing the same, hips jerking against him, the feel of all that power clenched tight surrounding him so intense it almost makes him feel high. He did this, he made this man tremble and shiver like this, and as he slowly lets his legs slip down, relaxes his arms, he feels a strange sense of pride in that.

"All right?" he asks, voice hoarse, still thin and thready. "That was...intense." He's got an elbow hooked round Louis's neck and he's no intention of letting it go. He wants him close.

Louis nods in agreement, draping himself over Bradley, his cock still throbbing inside him. He kisses the side of Bradley's throat, quiet for a moment while he catches his breath, and then, "Was I too rough?" There's no question that Bradley responded, that he enjoyed what they did in the moment, but he wants to make sure he won't regret it later.

Bradley laughs at that, just a quiet little huff into Louis's hair. "Not at all," he assures Louis, fingers carding idly through that hair as he blinks up at the ceiling, still half-stunned. "No, definitely not. Just about had me begging, you did. I, well. Don't do this all that much. Might take me a minute to get the brain back on-line." And he likes this boneless feeling, Louis's weight pressing him down, heavy and reassuring somehow.

"Don't do what all that much?" Louis asks, kissing him softly on the mouth this time before giving him room to answer.

"Fucking," Bradley answers directly enough. No use beating about the bush. "Mostly it's just other things, handjobs, blowjobs, things like that. Haven't met anyone I was hot for, not like this, not in ages." He grins a little at Louis, a bare curl of the corner of his mouth and his eyes crinkling up just a bit. "I had a feeling you'd know how to do it properly. Turns out I wasn't wrong."

"Except for the part where I didn't last anywhere near as long as I should have," Louis says with a laugh, grinning back. "I don't think I've come like that since I was in school."

"Me neither," Bradley admits, laughing too, enjoying the way their bodies move together. "God, if you hadn't come right after, I'd be totally mortified right now, I'll tell you that. Went off like a rocket, I did. That was *brilliant* though. I don't want to move."

Louis smiles. "While I understand the inclination," he says softly, lifting a little, their bellies sticking, still slick with Bradley's come. "I have something I need to take care of, and I think we should take a shower." He kisses Bradley again, long and soft and warm, making sure he knows it's not because he doesn't want to stay right where they are. "Okay?"

Bradley's strangely reluctant to let go, and sucks a little at Louis's bottom lip, protesting wordlessly at the need to part. "Yeah, that sounds good," he says, finally, smiling. He's sticky and sweaty and generally desperately needs a wash. And showering with Louis sounds like the best possible way to get clean.

Easing out slowly, Louis quickly and neatly disposes of the condom in the bin beside the bed. He offers Bradley his hand and tugs the other man to his feet with a smile, pulling him towards the bathroom where he turns on the shower, nice and hot, testing the water on his hand before stepping in, Bradley pulled with him.

Bradley's never been more grateful for his hours of soccer training; he's jelly-legged enough now that he can only imagine what it'd feel like if he weren't fit. The bathroom is palatial, looks like something out of one of those glossy decorating mags his mum has lying on her coffee table, but he only has a minute to stare as Louis drags him into the shower with him.

It's hot, and steamy, and glorious, and Bradley turns his face up to the water with his eyes closed for a long moment, letting the heat wash over him and soothe any lingering tension and the just-blooming aches out of him. Then he has to step back and open his eyes again, because he doesn't want to miss a second of "Louis, Wet, In Shower." It's every bit as gorgeous as he'd imagined, too. He hadn't gotten a good look in the frantic heat of before, but now, he can't help himself, he reaches out and runs greedy hands over the flat plane of Louis's belly, the curve of his pec, the sexy little dimples at the small of his back.

"Remember what I said earlier, about licking you all over?" he asks, voice husky. "God. You're so fucking gorgeous. If I'd known nearly getting arrested would get me this, I'd have been heaving bricks through car windows ages ago."

Louis laughs, delighted, his softening cock still jerking lightly at the touches. "I'm only glad I was here to deal with you," he says, reaching for a bar of soap. "Next week, I would have been in New York."

"That would've been much less fun," Bradley agrees, reluctantly pulling away so that he can wash his hair. "Your security guards aren't nearly as fascinating as you are, and Marie just isn't my type, lovely though she is. If they'd asked me to a mysterious tryst in a small French village I'd've declined." He pushes his head under the spray again, laughing as water gets everywhere. Just for fun, he flicks droplets off his fingertips at Louis.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Louis warns, eyes glinting with mischief and something a bit more wicked.

"Would you?" Bradley teases, his own eyes crinkled with mirth and a little bit of devilry, himself. He's grinning wide and white, wet hair flopping into his eyes, and he backs up a little, teasingly. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he's probably being something of a brat, but that same little bit of his mind is rather desperate to see what Louis might do about it. He flicks his fingers again, daringly.

Louis shakes his head, but he's grinning, and then suddenly he's pouncing, both hands tickling at Bradley's ribs and sides as he pins him against the shower wall.

It's so startling and such a jolt of surprise and pleasure that Bradley *yelps* as he's pinned against the wall, and then he's being tickled and he's wiggling and squirming and it's useless, everything is slippery and he can't get away. He is laughing so hard it's shaking his body.

"Pleasenopleasenoohmygodstop please stoppit oh my god oh oh oh!" He's actually clinging to Louis even as he's begging, just to keep himself upright.

"Are you going to keep splashing me?" Louis demands to know, fingers worming their way in everywhere.

"N-n-no," Bradley stutters through gasps of laughter. He's weak with it now. "No, never, swear. On my mum, I swear, no more splashing!" He's half-hard again, just from all the contact and the being held down and all that naked skin. If he had any brain left he'd be impressed at his own recovery time; as it is, he just wants more.

"Good," Louis murmurs, stilling, keeping Bradley pinned to the wall, his voice low, lips brushing against his ear as he whispers, "Because if you continue, I might be forced to put you over my lap and spank you." Enough humour in the words for them to be taken as a joke. Or not.

Bradley's pretty sure Louis is joking. Fairly sure. He sounds like he's joking, but really, who jokes about something like that, naked, in the shower with another bloke? He'd hate to react wrong and miss out on the chance for having this again, sometime. It's agonizing that there's no way to be sure.

Even though he's aware his body is probably answering for him--his cock, now fully stiff again so quickly it *hurts*, and his face, and his eyes--he huffs a little laugh. "Right. And we wouldn't want that. Would we?" It's more of a question than he meant it to be.

"Of course not." Louis smiles, shaking his head, working his hand between them and wrapping it around Bradley's cock. "I don't think you'd want this," he squeezes a little tighter, "trapped between my thighs, my hand on your ass, turning it red and hot, before I set you on all fours and fuck you so hard you can barely sit for days."

Whatever this is, Bradley thinks he's pretty safe in assuming it's not a joke, now, and it's a good thing, because a completely embarrassing whimper comes from his throat, unbidden and unwanted but louder than he'd like in the tile and glass enclosure. Cheeks flaming hot, he drops his head, leaning hard against Louis as that hand strokes him and that voice does...things...to his insides.

He decides, in one of his rash leaps, what the hell.

"Actually I think...oh...I think I might want that...kind of a lot," he chokes out, hoping hard that it's not the wrong answer.

Louis licks his lips, stroking Bradley harder, his own cock filling so quickly it almost makes his head spin. "Show me," he demands, making a circle with his fingers. "Fuck my hand and show me how much. If you can come before the water runs cold, you'll be over my lap tomorrow night."

"Not fair," Bradley grunts, already moving his hips, pushing his cock through that delicious friction. "Dunno how big the tank is...no idea how much time...oh god." He reaches up to hold Louis's shoulders, needing it for balance, needing to be closer so he can get more leverage. It's so soon, so quick after last time, and he's not sure how long it's going to take him to come. He's never *timed* it before. But this is some serious motivation, right here, and he leans his face against Louis' chest and fucks his hand, as hard as he can.

"Then I'd guess you'd better make it as quickly as you can," Louis says, unable to stop smiling as he holds his hand steady for Bradley and tightens his grip just a little, his face buried in the boy's hair, inhaling his scent as his body moves against his.

"I can't...oh..." Bradley gasps as he works his hips harder, bucking them forward again and again, hands clenching and unclenching in rhythm. He's focused down completely on his body and the pleasure aching through him, oversensitized nerves sparking randomly and making him shiver, and he really, really wants to make the deadline...with a huge breath of relief, he feels the knot of tension in his belly give way and he's coming, back arching hard, spurting into Louis' hand.

"Yes," Louis whispers, cock throbbing roughly as the heat of Bradley's come paints his skin. He grins, chuckling softly, one finger tipping Bradley's chin up so he can kiss him. Hard. "You did it," he says, the good boy very carefully held back.

Bradley feels the strangest sense of warmth at Louis's words. Like he's accomplished something good, for real, not just a sexy challenge in a shower, but somehow more than that. He yearns up into the kiss, welcoming the bruising force of it, and his own hands fall to Louis's hips. Thumbs stroking the wet curls at the base of his cock, then the rigid heat of the base itself. "I was well-motivated," he says, voice rough and low, head spinning from it all, still completely off-balance.

"By me conniving my way into a second date with you," Louis says with a smile, groaning heavily as Bradley caresses his cock.

Bradley laughs at that, getting a little more bold with his hands, stroking and playing now, keeping his touch light and gentle. "You didn't have to connive. I was a sure thing for the date. After an evening like this, I'd've been mad, not to be."

The water suddenly turns tepid, and he yelps. "Ah, cold! And I *just* made it. Good lord that was close."

"Well, I think we're clean at least," Louis says, moving more than a little reluctantly to turn off the shower and usher them both out onto the large woven cotton bath mat. But then he has his hands back on Bradley, kissing him, pressing close, his cock still hard and insistent. "What were you saying earlier about wanting to lick?"

"You have a good memory," Bradley laughs, and then follows suit, licking a long, slow stripe down Louis's chest, ending at a nipple. He tastes like warm water and warmer skin, a hint of musk and sex, delicious. Bradley's always been ridiculously oral, and hums contentedly as he licks around the little nub, stiffening in the cool air, pausing to nip it very gently. Louis's cock is very insistent against his belly but he ignores it for now, taking his time, exploring and enjoying himself.

Louis lapses into french, cursing softly under his breath, his hands finding their way into Bradley's hair, his cock jerking the scrape of teeth. There's a part of him that would like to push the boy down, onto his knees, and claim his mouth, but there's another that's reveling in this, in the pleasure found in taking things slow.

Bradley hears the murmur of words he can't understand, and recognizes a few curse words here and there, which makes him smile. Means he must be on the right track. He moves to the other nipple and gives it the same attention, then bites again, gently, at the firm curve of pec just beside it. Louis is delicious, every inch of him, and Bradley is enjoying discovering that.

"Bed?" he murmurs against Louis's skin, knowing it'll be awkward to keep licking if they can't get horizontal somewhere.

"Oui." Louis nods. He steps back and nudges Bradley towards the other room, ignoring the towels on the rack. He could care less that they're not dry. He wants Bradley's mouth on him again. Now.

Laughing, Bradley lets himself be pushed, pliant and easy, back to the bedroom and then right on to the bed. He kneels up, unselfconscious and comfortable with his body, showing himself off a bit. "You taste just as good as I'd thought," he tells Louis, eyes never leaving him. "Can't wait to taste the rest." He wonders how Louis feels about rimming, and realizes he's going to try it anyway...and licks his lips in anticipation.

"I taste like soap," Louis says with a soft laugh, casually deflecting the compliment as he stretches out on the bed, his hands behind his head. "And who said anything about waiting?"

"Well, it's just physics, isn't it," Bradley argues, moving over until he can lean over Louis's body, eyes avid. "My tongue's a bit smaller than your body, so I can only do one bit at a time. Pity, that. And you don't taste at all like soap. More like, I don't know. Sex on legs." He doesn't want to waste any more time and bends his head, tongue tracing the ridges of muscle Louis's belly, licking broadly across his navel.

Sex on legs. It's not the first time Louis has heard that expression or heard it applied to him, but it's the first time it's put such a smile on his face. He chuckles, the sound segueing into another curse as Bradley's tongue touches his stomach, his cock leaping against his belly, a drop of precome forming at the tip. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, watching Bradley. "With a very talented tongue."

"Why thank you," Bradley laughs into Louis's belly. "I try my best." He licks down and around Louis's cock, delicately as a cat, never quite touching it, just breathing on it in passing. His hands are resting on the jut of Louis's hipbones, balancing himself, and he closes his eyes to savor the taste and feeling. Gently mouthing the sac hanging down between those strong thighs, he takes his time, licking and sucking.

"Good God," Louis gasps, eyes closing for a moment before he forces them open again, not wanting to miss one second of the sight below.

Bradley's been blessed with a long tongue and the motivation to learn how to use it. He re-wets his lips and runs them gently back and forth over the base of Louis's cock, before dipping down again and taking the whole sac gently into his mouth. Not a hint of teeth, just lots of tongue and gentle suction, and as he lets the warm, soft skin slip out of his mouth again, his tongue darts lower, and lower again, until just the tip swipes over his target. Just a tease of warmth, before he licks again at the perineum and back up to the balls.

Cursing again as Bradley's tongue swipes over his hole, Louis shivers, spreading his legs a little wider, his cock thumping against his belly, the pool of precome growing. "Yes, god," he groans, licking his lips. "More..."

Encouraged by Louis's reaction, Bradley obeys, ducking his head down and licking, harder this time, over the pucker of Louis's ass. He knows how insanely good this feels when someone does it to him, so he puts in his best effort...licking, lapping, even pointing his tongue to dip inside a little, tasting clean skin and musk. With his eyes closed and in the dark, all he can sense is Louis: smell, taste, sound, feel, he's completely surrounded. And he's feeling what he's always thought of as his "little secret."

Even though he's just come, there's a bone-deep shiver of satisfaction running through him. His head is swimming and he feels almost high, floaty, so focused in on serving Louis that the rest of the world has just fallen away. With his eyes closed he sinks into his own head, quiet, still, peaceful. He laps his tongue over Louis's hole again and again, only pausing to suck and lave at his sac again, single-minded. He's never told anyone the core-deep satisfaction he gets from this. Not hard himself, just giving pleasure.

It feels incredible. Louis meant what he said about Bradley's talented tongue. He's as good - if not better - than most of the boys he's trained and he expects almost all that skill is natural, a thought which only makes his cock jerk harder. Has him wrapping his hand around his swollen flesh, slowly stroking as he groans again, this close to losing it when Bradley's tongue dips inside him. "Good," he whispers. "So good..." His hips rocking a little, fucking the air, his knees bending slowly, giving Bradley more room.

The total focus Bradley's got right now lets him pick up those words, curling a warm tickle of heat and pleasure and satisfaction through him. He noses down where Louis has lifted his hips, scenting him, imprinting him in his memory. Cheek rubbing against Louis's inner thigh, he sighs out a long, warm breath against the skin he's just wetted with his tongue, and then, taking his chance, licks his way inside.

Tight ring of muscle, every dip and wrinkle soft against his tongue as he works it in, murmuring wordlessly, knowing the vibrations will be transferred. Licking deep and steady, and floating so high he's dizzy with it, dragging his cheek up the rock-hard shaft of Louis's cock, stroking it against his own face, when he needs a break for air. Like an affectionate cat.

Louis slides his free hand down into Bradley's hair, gripping lightly, his other hand alternately stroking and stilling, his cock throbbing roughly with each push of Bradley's tongue. His pleasure's growing, building, his orgasm slowly but steadily approaching until... "Close," he warns, his voice hoarse and thick with arousal.

Bradley wants to taste this, he wants it even more than he wants to keep licking, so he shifts back just a few inches--not enough to dislodge that wonderful hand in his hair--lifts up a little, and swallows Louis's cock whole, finally, for the first time.

It's as delicious as he thought it would be. Big, hot, slick, it fills his mouth completely. Even with his love for cock he can't quite get it all in to the root, but he does his best, and starts to suck.

"Mon dieu," Louis whispers, both hands in Bradley's hair now, his hips bucking up of their own accord, pushing his cock deeper. He's careful though. Careful not to push too hard, too rough, take too much, too soon. "That's it," he gasps, each wave of pleasure spiking higher and higher until his orgasm crashes over him and he comes, hot and thick and heavy.

Bradley's eyes are closed in bliss, and he can feel the first pulse against his lips before Louis's come hits his tongue, bitter-salt and creamy, more than a mouthful that he swallows
convulsively, again and again, drinking it down.

Perfect.

He suckles the last drops from the tip of Louis's cock and then slowly draws off, eyes never opening, and lays his head against Louis's thigh. He's been able to pass this off to other lovers as a post-orgasm nap, but he's wide awake...just not willing to come back to the bright hard edges of the real world, just yet. Somewhere in his drifty mind he assumes that Louis will be recovering and won't be paying much attention to him, yet, anyway. He can drift here for a little while.

Good boy. The words are on the tip of Louis's tongue but he bites them back again, instead choosing to thread his fingers through Bradley's hair, the gentle intimate caress high praise of its own.

Bradley lets out a quiet sigh, luxuriating in the feel of fingers in his hair, petting him, soothing him somehow exactly as he needs. He's practically glowing he feels so good, twined together with Louis in this big bed, fantastic sex and now a quiet cuddle. If he's not careful, he might *actually* fall asleep, and that's just bad manners.

He forces his eyes open, lifts them so he can peek at Louis's face. "Taste just as good as I thought," he offers, smiling a little, voice raspy from the workout he just gave his throat.

"That's good to hear," Louis says, one hand slipping downward, cupping Bradley's cheek. "I have to say, I'm incredibly glad you stumbled across our grounds today." It's been a long time since he's had an actual date with anyone, much less with someone outside Citadel. And it's been an even longer time since he's felt so drawn to someone, someone who didn't already belong to another.

"Me too," Bradley murmurs quietly, turning his face into that hand like a cat. "I haven't had a proper date in ages. Much less one that was this brilliant." He glances up at Louis, just to make sure he thinks it was brilliant, too, though he's pretty sure the two orgasms are in his favor. "Still up for a second? Date, I mean."

Louis nods. "Of course. After all, you have to collect your reward."

"Right!" Bradley laughs, rubs his cheek into Louis's palm, and can't seem to stop smiling. "Can't believe I'd nearly forgotten. I can only blame the fact that your cock is gorgeous and distracted me completely."

"It's good to know that at least part of me is that fascinating," Louis teases, patting the bed beside him. "Come up here and get under the covers with me."

"Now you're just taking the piss," Bradley grumbles. "You know you're gorgeous everywhere." He heaves himself up with great effort, and crawls up the bed until he can wriggle himself under the blankets, chilly at first but warming fast with their body heat. "I should warn you," he adds, through a yawn, "I think I kick. And possibly snore, though that last one might just be my friends poking fun. Hard to say." He yawns again and tucks his head against Louis's shoulder, amazed at how comfortable he feels, how quickly, with this man.

"I'll let you know in the morning," Louis promises, smiling, pulling Bradley in a little closer and kissing the top of his head.

"Right. Thanks. It'll be good to have a--" he yawns again, hugely, "--impartial outside witness. God, you wore me right out. Sorry, I'm crashing. See you in the morning? I can even make scrambled eggs..." he trails off into a murmur, eyes already falling closed.

Louis smiles, watching Bradley, eyes tracing his features - that beautiful mouth, those cheekbones, those long long eyelashes. The boy's beautiful, there's no doubt about that, but he's surrounded by beauty at Citadel so it must be something else. Something indefinable. Intangible. Something worth exploring more. He shakes his head at himself and presses his face against Bradley's hair again, inhaling deeply, just for a moment before brushing the fringe of blond from his forehead and kissing his temple. He'll have to think about this some more. Tomorrow.

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