That Chris is the right choice. But it still doesn't stop him from pushing. Pushing is, after all, what Chad does best. And, fuck, man, Chris rises to everything that Chad throws at him like the master he is. He always seems to know what Chad needs, sometimes even before Chad does, knows how to react, what to say, what to do. Not that Chris hadn't made his share of mistakes in the early days; not that Chad hadn't, for that matter. But now, they're like a well-oiled machine or some shit, working together, a perfect team, even when they fight. Even when Chad constantly challenges Chris' authority, and rushes headlong into crazy situations, just to see what Chris'll do. And not once has Chris ever disappointed him. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" Chris asks, concern evident in his voice as he holds up the leather restraints that Chad's placed in his hands. "Yes," Chad replies, firm and sure. "You promised." "I know. I just, y'know, figured you'd want..." Chad shushes him with a quick, firm kiss, and a lightning-fast grin. "I want that after. Wanna make out with you for hours, man, want your hands all over me, I want slow, hot sex with you deep inside me. I want all of that, I swear to you. But after." "After." Chris nods, blows out a harsh breath, and looks down at the restraints, then back up. Chad takes the opportunity to step in closer, run a practiced hand along Chris' inseam. "You know what I want right now, though?" he purrs, nipping at Chris' grizzled jaw. Heat flashes in Chris' eyes. His free hand is steady, possessive, on Chad's hip. "What's that?" His voice is a deep rumble that gets Chad instantly hard. "Right now –" Another nimble slide of his fingers, another soft nip "– right now, I want you to tie me to the bed, and I want you to crawl on top of me and hold me in place so you can shove that dildo I bought just for this occasion in my ass, and then I want to you to shove your cock in right alongside it, and I want you to fuck me, hard and rough, until I pass out." With each ragged, raw word, he feels himself letting go, putting everything in Chris' hands, putting himself in Chris' care. Chad watches hungrily as Chris licks dry lips. "How rough?" Normally Chris doesn't ask – he doesn't have to – but Chad also knows this is sort of a new thing for both of them. He doesn't mind the question; in fact, he loves Chris even more for it, for wanting to make sure he's taking care of Chad. "Ownership. Not punishment." Chris nods again, as if the answer is one he's expecting. "Alright. I think I could give you that." Then his grin turns dark, slightly mean, and Chad shivers at the promise in it. "Now strip and get on the bed so I can get these on you. Then we'll see if you're a good enough boy for anything else." Chad wastes no time obeying the order. Anticipation shivers down his spine, thrums along his nerves like a live wire, sizzling him with its power. He tugs out of his clothing in record time, climbs on the bed and lies down, head propped by the pillows so he can see what Chris does next. He can't wait to feel the harsh leather of the restraints digging into his wrists as he struggles (but not too much), leaving thick, angry welts that Chris will later kiss and soothe with his lips. He can't wait to hear Chris' voice in his ear, low and whiskey-rough, telling him how good he looks all tied up, helpless, Chris' bitch to do with as he pleases, his obedient boy, hungry for everything Chris does to him. He can't wait to feel the thick, full press of Chris' fingers inside him, twisting in rough and hard, preparing him the way he likes best, and he can't wait for Chris to push the wide, fat dildo deep inside him, can't wait for Chris to fuck him with it, get him all stretched out so Chris can fit his cock in alongside it. He can't wait to feel the contrast of Chris' cock and the dildo in his ass, splitting him open as Chris fucks him hard and fast, fingers digging into soft skin, teeth biting at his neck and collarbones, giving him more bruises as reminders, as marks of ownership and love. But, mostly, what he wants – what he really can't wait for – is the look in Chris' eyes just after they've both come and are easing down from the adrenaline high of feeding off of each other. The look that's part-wonder, part-possession. The look that tells Chad he's cherished and owned; that, no matter what, Chris'll be there, pinning Chad down, keeping him in place. That look, more effective than useless words that neither of them needs, tells Chad everything he needs to know about what he means to Chris. The world might not get what Chad and Chris see in each other, and that's fine with Chad. He has no use for the world or what they think. Not when Chris is sauntering towards him, restraints dangling lightly from one hand. Not when Chris is slowly unsnapping the buttons of his jeans, dark, wicked smirk promising that he'll have Chad begging and screaming before the night's over, that Chad won't be able to move after because Chris will make sure of it. Chad can't wait.
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