“That’s workable.” Sullivan’s lips landed on his nape again, kissing hot and damp across the skin, and Tobias shivered. This went on for long, lovely seconds while Tobias’s bones turned into molten lava and his spine bowed, helplessly begging for more.
“God, you’re sweet. Don’t move.” Sullivan shifted away, throwing the covers down around their lower legs and letting cool air into the bed between them, but he was back a second later, the sound of the lube cap snapping open and then closed, and Tobias was about to protest, to say but I said I was sore, when he thought Sullivan knows.
And maybe it was backward, but that thought hit him in the belly like a Molotov cocktail. If Sullivan knew Tobias was sore, that meant Sullivan didn’t care. Or, more likely he cared, but he’d decided that the pain was immaterial. That Tobias was here to serve him and this minor soreness wouldn’t be allowed to get in the way of that. And Tobias shuddered at the idea of his body being so intensely meant for Sullivan’s pleasure that even being sore wouldn’t stop them. He abruptly wished he was in more pain, because then it would take more out of him, it would cost more, and he would feel every agonizing movement, and each second could be a gift that he would give to his—
He didn’t have a word for the end of that sentence.
He didn’t have time to consider how he felt about that glaring absence, either, because he was jumping, startled. Sullivan was smearing wet lube not between his cheeks, like Tobias had expected, but lower, between his thighs.
Tobias tried to muffle his disappointment, but it came out anyway, in the shape of a small unhappy noise.
“Uh-oh,” Sullivan said, still working his fingers there slickly. “What’s up? Talk to me.”
“I—it’s nothing.”
Sullivan’s hand stopped. “Tobias, the way this works is that you do as you’re told. Which means that I get an answer when I ask a question. You have a bit of a history of not saying things because you don’t want to upset people, yeah?”
Tobias had to admit that Sullivan had made the correct inference, embarrassing as it was. “Yes, I do.”
“Not with me, okay? I try to pick up on cues, but I’m not a mind reader. I have to be able to trust what you tell me. That’s—that’s sacred to this game we’re playing, okay? I might not always give you what you’re asking for, depending on what it is, but I have to know. You can tell me what you feel.”
Suddenly Tobias was stupidly, humiliatingly on the verge of tears.
“I want that,” Sullivan continued, twisting the knife, opening Tobias up in a place that had nothing to do with sex. “Really. Tell me stuff. I’ll never punish you for being honest with me. Okay?”
Tobias stared straight ahead at the wall, afraid of what his voice might do if he opened his mouth.
“Hey.” Sullivan propped himself up on one elbow and nudged Tobias to lie a bit more on his back so they could see each other’s faces. He lifted his hand, then scowled at it for being wet with lube, before making a noise of mild frustration and pressing his lips to Tobias’s cheek. That was how Tobias realized a few tears had slipped loose after all. Sullivan couldn’t brush them away, so he was kissing them away, and Tobias snuggled backward, closer. Sullivan wrapped his arm around him again, careful to keep his lubed fingers off the sheets, and it was awkward and a little funny and Tobias liked all of it so very much.
“I want you inside me,” he confessed. It was still hard to say, but oh, it was so lovely to have Sullivan nodding like it made perfect sense. “While I—while I hurt, I want to, um, give that, I think.”
Sullivan was quiet for a long moment. “That’s...if you just want to give, we can do it without pain. Or is the pain part of it?”
The pain made it more, Tobias thought, but he wasn’t entirely sure that made sense, so he said, “It’s part of it.”
“Gotcha.” Sullivan sounded fine, but something in his expression went slightly rigid. “I can work with that. No problem.”
“Are you—” Tobias started, uneasy, but Sullivan pressed another small kiss to his throat, making a soothing humming noise, and the moment when Tobias might’ve pushed it slipped away.
Sullivan eased Tobias back onto his side, and his hand slid between his cheeks so that his wet fingers brushed against the raw skin there. Tobias arched, pain and pleasure rocketing up his spine, and the combination of the two meant he was very tight when Sullivan’s fingers pressed inside, two at once.
“Oh,” Tobias whispered. Those fingers worked inside him, too much, and he couldn’t breathe. He was so hard. His dick jerked with every thrust of Sullivan’s fingers and that was without any contact against his prostate.
“Stay still,” Sullivan murmured. “Give me this, Tobias. I want you to feel this for me. Can you do that?”
Tobias nodded frantically.
“That’s it. Give it up for me.” Those fingers were moving faster now, demanding and gentle and rough all at once. Tobias squeezed his eyes closed tight and listened to Sullivan’s morning-hoarse words as they crawled inside him. “There you go. I want more, Tobias. Can you give me more?”
Tobias’s back arched without his permission, his ass shoving back, desperate for it. He was already close, already so close, and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to come, if that rule had just been a rule for last night or if it was an all-the-time thing, but it never occurred to him to come now and apologize later. He’d hold on. If there was a chance that this was what Sullivan wanted, he would hold on. He would’ve asked, but his jaw was locked tight against coming, especially now that Sullivan had apparently decided that it was time to
