Chapter 5 #3
He must have obeyed because they’re suddenly in the living room. Sebastian puts the towel down and sits on it, legs spread. He grips his cock, so beautiful and dark with lust. Gets himself ready while he stares at Peter.
The condom. The oil. His strong hand stroking his own cock, waiting for Peter to take what he wants.
Which is where Peter’s courage fails him.
“I’m scared.”
“Yeah, I can see it on your face. But that’s not the only thing I see.
You’re so beautiful it’s hard to look at, you know?
But sad. And lonely. If you sit on my cock, you won’t be lonely.
But you don’t have to. Say no, and I’ll blow you like I promised.
You have a really nice cock. I’ll be sweet to you if it’s too much, baby.
I’m just being a greedy asshole, seeing how you respond.
I promise I’ll be just as happy doing something else. ”
“No,” Peter says firmly. He doesn’t like being given an out. He likes the cajoling menace, the faux kindness Sebastian is an expert at. “It’s just a lot. I… I do want you inside.”
“I believe you. You’re incredible. How can I be this lucky? Come on, let’s get you seated. You’re mine now, aren’t you? Come on, I need you.”
“Oh,” Peter whispers and goes closer.
Peter gets his legs planted on either side of Sebastian’s hips, hovering over his groin. “What is this? Are you a Dom? A top? Are you now my Dom?”
“Yes.” As if the answer is simple. Sebastian slumps down on the couch. His touch is gentle but hurried. He’s eager for Peter, his cock hard and much too large.
“It’s your own pace. You take it however you need to. God, you’re incredible. Oh, good boy. Cry for me. Fuck, let me see it,” he says, gaze riveted on Peter’s face.
Peter blinks. Feels the tears spill over.
Sebastian makes a cooing sound. His hands are hard on Peter’s hips.
“Get my cock where you need it, sweetheart.”
He gets Sebastian lined up, the hot head brushes his sore, stinging rim, and Sebastian nods, wipes a tear off Peter’s cheek. “You’re mine. Kidnapped. I broke in and I’ve claimed you. You’re my slut. It isn’t easy but you can do this. Only you,” he murmurs, supportive.
They’re in it together, Peter thinks. This requires both of them. Sebastian is doing his part, and now Peter gets to do his.
“You’re so good. I know you can do this. I know you want it, but it’s difficult,” he says and touches Peter’s chest. Soft touches and then harder and harder until Peter moans and his hips twitch forward.
“Down, sweetheart. Easy now.”
He urges Peter down, all of him burning and pulsing inside, Sebastian’s cock twitching and impossibly hard and wide.
“Yes, fuck. That’s it,” Sebastian growls and clutches Peter close, biting at his lip and along his jaw. “My god. Baby, baby, you’re so good,” he groans, and Peter is somehow seated to the hilt, Sebastian slowly rocking himself to orgasm as Peter lies on him like a barnacle.
“Good boy. You’re amazing, sweetheart. See how gentle it is? You feel so good, baby,” Sebastian says, babbling praise at him endlessly. It's soft and soothing, filling Peter up and making him warm and floaty inside.
Peter is shaking by the time Sebastian rides out his orgasm. It takes a bit for Sebastian to come back to him, to start kissing him gently, turning his attention back to Peter and Peter’s orgasm.
“Fuck, that was amazing. Oh, these tears. Are these for me?” he asks, licking them up, kissing them away.
Peter sniffles and nods in response. A gentle hand wraps around Peter’s cock and squeezes. “Do you want it? I’ll give it to you.”
Sebastian kisses him endlessly, touching his cock gently, lovingly, until Peter is lost in it. Eyes closed and lips parted. Helpless. Sebastian’s cock slips out, and Peter whimpers at the loss.
“I know. Greedy boy. You’re insatiable. I could plug you.”
Peter shudders at the idea.
Sebastian gets him on his back and moves between his legs. He swallows Peter down, letting him be warm and sucked to completion. It takes forever. Peter is jittery, struggling to come. His body is confused.
Too much pain and arousal, too much intensity and pleasure. Sebastian stops at one point, forehead on Peter’s hip, exhaling on Peter’s cock.
“I’ll take care of you after breakfast if you want.
Make sure you come. You earned it. No tricks.
If you can’t come now, that’s okay. Poor little lamb, giving me too much.
You’re all fucked up now, sweetheart,” he says, nipping at Peter’s stomach and his thighs.
“Do you want to keep going, or do you want a bit of time to get back in your body? I promise you’ll come. ”
“No! I want it now,” he begs. And Sebastian goes back to sucking him, letting Peter strain and struggle to come until he’s ready to cry over that, too.
“Please don’t stop,” he gasps, breathing harshly.
“I won’t. As long as you want. Take your time. But I think your cock feels too good. I think we should try something else,” he murmurs, his eyes almost gray as they meet Peter’s. His hands settle on Peter’s thighs, making him open more, cool air on his hot and throbbing hole.
“No, no. Please don’t,” he begs as Sebastian kisses down his perineum, closer and closer to his aching hole.
“Shh. Soft.”
A breath against Peter’s raw flesh, and Peter’s cock jerks warningly.
“Exactly. This is what you need. You’re a dirty whore, and you want to show it off. You want me to look and admire you, don’t you? Pretty fucked-open hole.”
His lips are featherlight, his tongue dabbing, a delicate flick over him.
“You’re burning up. God, you’re a wreck down here.
I ruined you, baby. You’re open. Not quite gaping.
But it’s really beautiful. Your first time, and this is where you wound up.
I need a picture. I’m gonna take one after you come. ”
Sebastian licks at him and his tongue sweeps into Peter’s open hole. Peter shouts, thighs closing on Sebastian’s head, rocking up and then back down, needing more and to get away.
Both at once.
“Please, please. Oh fuck! Please,” Peter begs, over and over.
Sebastian chuckles into his flesh, moans, and that’s what sends him over the edge, spurting up his own chest without a hand on himself.
Sebastian licks him long after he’s done coming, and then he licks up every drop of come from Peter’s stomach and chest.
He lies beside him on the couch while Peter blinks back tears and burrows as close as he can get.
“You need a blanket for this couch,” Sebastian says. He keeps Peter close. “I’ll get you one, baby.”
Peter is content after that. And dazed. Then Sebastian gets up, comes back with a blanket, and tucks it around him.
“You’re wonderful,” he says. He spends several minutes fussing over Peter, touching him like he’s an ill, well-loved child. If someone had asked him how he’d feel about such treatment, he would have rolled his eyes dismissively. It wouldn’t even make sense. He’s a grown man.
But it turns out he fucking loves it.
“You let me check now,” Sebastian eventually says and shoves up the blanket. He has Peter spread his legs. It’s mortifying. He’s got a cool washcloth. It stings. Sebastian is so gentle, pressing it against him.
“You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” He kisses Peter’s hip. It’s said with affection. “I’ll be back. You need food.”
Peter drifts, sniffles, and touches his cock and his balls. He touches his hole and his perineum. Which isn’t something he’s used to doing.
What a ridiculously limited life he’s lived. To be thirty-five and only just accepting that he’s gay, a bottom, and a masochist.
He doesn’t want to say that being a masochist is the most important of the three attributes, but he is in love with the pain first and foremost. He isn’t sure he’d want the rest of it if he wasn’t hurt and getting taken care of after.
The pain is exquisite. It hurts in so many ways. Some new, all of them intense and distracting. He sobs softly, cries for a bit, but it’s good. It’s a release. The last time he cried like this was when his best friend died in a shitty hellhole in Afghanistan.
Now he’s crying, and all he can think about is every pathetic compromise and decision he’s made. In both his personal and political life he’s been a coward. Has he ever done the right thing?
No. It’s an awful thing to dwell on, but he just hasn’t really felt the weight of a life half and badly lived until now. Sebastian comes back with two plates of food and orange juice. He sits on the couch and urges Peter closer. He helps Peter sit up, gets him tucked in close like a child.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian whispers, getting him a Kleenex.
“Yeah. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but this is good. I haven’t cried since… It’s nice. I mean, it isn’t. It’s awful, but it’s good, too. And if we hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be able to get it out. So thank you.”
Sebastian kisses him on the top of his head, his cheek, and then his mouth. “It’s pretty normal to want to get physically hurt so you can have an emotional release.”
“Is that healthy?” Peter sniffles, wiping his nose.
Sebastian shrugs. “I have no idea. Is drinking healthy? Getting high every night? Grindr? Smoking? Overeating? Religion? People are fucked up and need ways to cope. If you get hurt by someone you trust and feel better on the other side of it, I don’t think that’s wrong. Though I’m pretty biased.”
“It’s almost like an infection. Like a boil or blister or something.
It’s there and getting rid of it requires—you have to get through the skin sometimes.
But it’s better when it’s out. I used to always get in fights, and I knew I’d feel good afterwards.
That’s not something I can do anymore. Thank you. ”
Sebastian gives him a kiss on the top of his head. “I will very happily brutally fuck you and mark you up whenever you want. You can keep me on speed dial. Now, you need to eat. You must be so fucking hungry.”
Sebastian offers him a piece of bacon. Peter eats it, taking it from his fingers. He gets a kiss after, like a reward for being good.
“My father despaired of me,” Peter says.
It feels a bit random. He half hopes Sebastian will ignore it.
But he does also miss his dad. He was a flawed man.
Not just for cheating on his mom but because of all the moral compromises he made as a politician.
It’s hard to love someone when you don’t respect them.
To give them that grace and accept that they’re flawed and human. Did his dad tell himself he was helping people in other ways? That establishing a legacy for his family, keeping them safe and wealthy, was worth it?
“Oh yeah?” Sebastian asks and gives Peter French toast and a raspberry, feeding him with a fork.
He puts his head against Sebastian’s bare shoulder.
“He was a good father,” he says and thinks of what he should say next. Sebastian keeps feeding him, and Peter slowly figures out what to say, and then he can’t shut up, one thing after another, and he wonders if his entire life has been a mistake.
Sebastian finally frowns at him. “Doing what we did can be emotionally draining. I think you’re crossing the line into sub drop.
You’re a good man. Look at me. You are. I promise you that in the morning you won’t feel so down on yourself.
You did the best you could. That’s what we all do.
Sometimes our best is shitty. That’s okay, too. ”
He sobs into Sebastian’s shoulder and gets held until he falls asleep. He’s so light after that, he could drift away. It’s the first time he’s felt really connected to someone on a personal, intimate level. Total vulnerability. He doesn’t want it to end.