Chapter 9
They’ve been sitting on the couch reading for the last half hour and he knows Sebastian is getting antsy. His hand landed on Peter’s thigh a solid ten minutes ago, crept higher and higher until it was in the crease of his thigh, and then Sebastian touched his cock with his pinky.
Peter is hard and has been since about thirty seconds after Sebastian's hand first squeezed his leg.
Anyway, Peter's hard. He’s shifted on the couch and the outline of his erection is visible.
Which means Sebastian has taken his hand away. But the tension between them is crackling and Peter does his best to wait, stay relaxed, as if there isn’t a countdown to something happening.
He has to wait for Sebastian to direct him.
He will tell Peter what he wants. And the waiting is excruciating because Peter isn’t going to relax and his cock isn’t going to calm down.
His body is unable to refocus on nonsexual things now that he’s with Sebastian.
As if his body has had a lifetime of off and is now permanently switched to on.
Peter will just get harder, and his cock will ache more, and then Sebastian will probably give him a casual order like suck my dick, honey or something and Peter will fall upon him like a starving man.
“Tell me something,” Sebastian finally says, tossing his book aside.
“Sure. Like what?” Peter asks and sets his own book down, rolls his head along the couch to look up into Sebastian’s face.
Peter does it on purpose, slouching down on the couch, wanting to look up into the eyes of the man he adores. He thinks Sebastian likes him being lower and looking up at him, too. A reminder that he is submissive.
“Dancing,” Sebastian says, and his gaze slides down Peter’s body, and he stares between Peter’s legs as if he’s trying to see how hard Peter is.
“What… what is there to tell you about dancing?” Peter asks, cock twitching from that small amount of attention.
“Have you ever been?”
“Uh, no.”
“Like at a club?”
“I—no,” he says, hating where this might be going. “I never liked girls. Why would I go?”
“What do you think we’re gonna do for your birthday?”
“I have no idea,” he says, concerned that whatever is going through Sebastian’s mind has somehow connected those things together.
“What’s something you don’t want to have happen?”
“A threesome,” he says promptly.
Sebastian laughs. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I’d be so fucking angry if you got it up for some woman.”
“Angry?” Peter repeats, mind blanking at the idea. Sebastian doesn’t get angry. His initial anger and bad behavior was all a result of his sister. Now that she's okay, he’s usually easygoing. Except in the bedroom. Maybe that’s why he’s so easygoing?
“Would you like that?” Sebastian pretends to look angry, grabs Peter by his shirt and pulls him closer, and Peter, going with it, has to put a hand down to catch himself. His arm bends, abruptly weak with lust because that’s just how he is around Sebastian.
“Fuck,” he says.
And Sebastian laughs because he knows. He always goddamned knows.
“There’s the blush.” Sebastian pulls his hair so he winds up awkwardly over Sebastian’s lap, looking back at him with wide eyes. Sebastian grins, slow and predatory. “How can you be so easy? Your cock is hard against my thigh. I didn’t even touch you,” he says dismissively.
Peter gives up with a groan, dropping his head and squeezing his eyes closed tightly. “You did touch me. And then you stopped,” he mumbles into the couch. He’s in the perfect position to get spanked.
“What? With one little finger? How long ago was that? Twenty minutes? You mean you’ve been hard this whole time just because I touched you with one little finger?”
There’s a roughness in his tone. Confidence. Condescension. And that’s what Peter loves. To be demeaned and mocked and desired by the man he loves.
“Yes, Sebastian,” he whispers.
“People need more than that, sweetheart. To get turned on,” Sebastian says as if he’s being kind. “Normal people. Don’t you need more than that?”
Sebastian’s hand lands on Peter’s ass, squeezing each cheek hard and then roughly rubbing at his hole through Peter’s clothing. Peter presses back, grinding into the touch with a loud gasp.
“You want me angry? Jealous over some woman?” he asks, squeezing Peter’s ass.
“Anything,” Peter says.
Sebastian spanks Peter hard on one cheek. “It’s not the same if it isn’t your hole, you know?”
Peter makes a sound, but it definitely isn’t a word.
“I bet you do. And I would be. And not I’m pretending to be angry so you can get fucked how you like it angry, but lock up your dick and throw away the key angry. I’d actually be pissed off.”
He shoves at Peter so he sits back on the couch. It’s disorienting. Wait. Is that it? He didn’t even get spanked!
“Lock up my… Where are you going with this? I wouldn’t try to make you jealous with a woman,” Peter manages. His cock is throbbing.
“Nowhere. I’m just getting horny and I haven’t figured out what I want yet. But I figure you flustered is a good place to start. We both like that. You probably couldn’t fuck a woman anyway.”
“Probably not,” Peter agrees and half hopes Sebastian will carry on with the degrading talk about how Peter can’t get it up.
“I’d have to do it for the both of us,” Sebastian says.
Oh. Nope. Peter hates that, in fact.
Sebastian is watching him.
“You’re being a child,” Peter says and gets up off the couch. He goes into the kitchen and starts unloading the dishwasher, adjusting himself on the way. He hates the idea of Sebastian with a girl. It makes him jealous and insecure and not in a good way.
And now he’s so unsettled with the dancing and the birthday questions that he isn’t sure how he feels. He’s had errands that he’s been needing to do for weeks and he’s been putting them off because he wants to spend time with Sebastian. Maybe today is the day?
“I should go to the store,” Peter says because he knows Sebastian is standing in the doorway.
“I’m really tempted to tell you to just trust me because I’d like to know if you’d do it, but I think maybe that’s a bit too mean for my soft boy,” he says and comes into the kitchen. He’s watching Peter unload the dishwasher. He leans against the counter. “Which part upsets you?”
“All of it,” he says, annoyed.
“Your birthday?”
“Don’t be obtuse.”
“The idea of you unable to perform with a woman?”
Peter ignores that because that isn’t it. And he can unfortunately imagine a scenario or twenty where he’d love the idea of having that thrown in his face. Only able to get hard for Sebastian.
Sebastian sighs and starts walking away.
“You know what it is. The idea of you with other people… If that’s what you want—“
“I don’t. You know that. I’m obsessed with you, Peter. Only you,” he says. “And I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get it up for anyone else either. I leave so much of myself inside you it’s amazing I’m not a dehydrated husk.”
What an awful and descriptive thing to say. Peter is probably as red as a lobster now. And his cock is very uncomfortably positioned.
“Hell, if I looked at anyone, I think you’d milk me dry, don’t you?”
“I don’t like thinking of you with someone else or wanting someone else. I’m already worried you’re going to want someone your own age—“
“Wouldn’t you milk me dry if I looked at someone else? Wouldn’t I find my dick buried in that tight hole of yours before I could even try to pick up someone else?”
“Sebastian,” he growls, annoyed. Peter reaches for another glass to put away. His hand is shaking.
“So, dancing?”
“I don’t want to go dancing for my birthday,” Peter says, glaring at him over his shoulder.
Sebastian’s staring at Peter’s ass and he’s hard in his pants. He flicks a gaze up at Peter and winks at him. It’s normally very reassuring. He’s just winding Peter up. He likes Peter flustered and annoyed and maybe even irritated.
This is something they both like. Sebastian will get Peter worked up and then he’ll fuck Peter, demand he present his ass or make Peter blow him when Peter is beyond frustrated with his prickly, contrary young lover.
Peter loves the dismissal of his own feelings, loves that Sebastian’s desire and lust overrides Peter’s annoyance. Peter fucking lives for it. Not only does it mean Peter comes hard but it satisfies the fucked-up, emotionally masochistic part of Peter, too.
And yet, it isn’t quite right today. Maybe it’s because they’re talking about Peter’s birthday and despite his protestations that he doesn’t care and doesn’t want anything, he does.
He wants Sebastian to make it special. How special is it going to be if he’s trying to take Peter dancing?
What if Sebastian doesn’t know him after all?
“I have never wanted to go dancing,” Peter says, a little louder and firmer than he wanted.
“You’ll like it. We’ll have fun.”
“If I’d ever in my life wanted to dance, I assure you, I fucking would have.”
“Really? I can think of a few things I know you must have wanted but didn’t pursue,” Sebastian says dismissively. “And then there’s going to be a dinner. A murder mystery dinner.”
Is this a joke, Peter almost asks. Murder fucking mystery? For his birthday?
“We’re going to get dressed up, everybody has a part to play, and I’ve gotten you a suit. You just need to get final measurements for it.”
“Measurements?” Peter asks. “For a… suit? I have a million fucking suits. Did you spend three grand on a suit for me? I don’t ever want to wear a suit again!”
“Baby. Trust me. And it wasn’t three grand for just your suit.
But think about it from my perspective. How fucking sexy you’ll look.
Those broad shoulders, all powerful and put together.
Everyone who sees you is going to want to fuck you.
Well, they’ll want you to fuck them. But we just talked about how that isn’t ever happening. ”