Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

That bastard.

He just had to dress like that, didn’t he. The son of a bitch. Who did he think he was? Black skinny jeans with rips across his thighs, showing off tantalizing strips of his pale skin? Even from here, he could see the green detailing in the stitches. No one in the school wore as much green as that guy. His eyes were green, he had green tips on his hair, he wore the same green high top converse almost every day. But Alfred could handle the jeans and the shoes, and the hair. The eyes got to him a little but he’d never admit that. What he had trouble with was the fact that, since boys weren’t subject to the same strict dress code rules as the girls, the ass got away with wearing an almost skimpy vest top underneath a fishnet shirt. Long-sleeved, with cuffs on the end and holes for his thumbs so they wouldn’t ride up. The mesh stretched over his narrow shoulders in an even more torturous way than the rips in his jeans did. Black over more green—no surprise there. And peeking out from under the green fabric, still noticeable under the fishnet, was the top of a tattoo that Alfred desperately wanted to see. He had no idea what it was, but damn he was curious. Maybe it went all the way down his spine—that’d be fucking sexy.

As he watched, the green-clad teen leaned forward and tucked his feet under his chair, ankles crossed. Alfred could tell he was chewing on his lower lip as he focused on the teacher. No, not his lip, he was playing with one of those god damn lip rings. Snakebites. He shouldn’t have been allowed to wear them in school, but none of the teachers gave a shit anymore, so he wore them like he was born to do it. He had silver hoops going all the way around one ear, shiny and bright against his hair. Alfred wanted to bite them and tug as he shoved the other boy’s shirt up to see what that tattoo was.

Fuming and rigid in his chair, he gripped his pencil so tightly the wood creaked; it would snap if he squeezed too much harder. He didn’t care, though, and he didn’t care about the lecture that was going on, either. School didn’t really matter to him at the moment, not when that damn punk was being so…ugh.

If we weren’t at school right now…

Alfred liked to think he would teach the other student a lesson. Shove him against a wall and show him who was boss. Claim him. Mark him all over so the little asshole would learn how to behave, so he’d never let anyone else touch him ever again. In his head, he bent his tormentor to his will and kept him for his own. But that was only in his head because Alfred knew he would never actually do it, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had a reputation to keep, after all, and they were in completely different social circles. He, Alfred Jones, star athlete of the school, couldn’t be seen getting involved with some punk, especially not one with such a promiscuous reputation.

No, he couldn’t have him, and that was the most frustrating part.

X

Heh.

Arthur knew he was being watched. He could feel eyes on him and he had a pretty good idea of who those eyes belonged to. It was almost too much fun to pretend to pay attention. This class was easy and he was too smart for it, so he never really listened. His grades were still high, despite his reputation as a troublemaker.

Eat your heart out, Jones.

Yeah, it was definitely that obnoxious jock who was watching him. He tongued his right lip ring just a little more—the athlete was sure to see it—and held back a grin. Teasing the other student was his favorite pastime. He knew he drove Jones crazy and he didn’t feel even the smallest bit of guilt. Why should he? It wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose. Not at first, at least, and he never did anything too out of the ordinary to catch the other blond’s attention. He was just…inviting. But in a challenging way. He couldn’t make things too easy for Mister High and Mighty Athlete. That wouldn’t have been any fun at all, and Arthur was all about having fun.

The bell rang suddenly, signaling the end of class, and Arthur began to gather his things. His textbook had only been open for appearances’ sake, and he hadn’t written a thing in his notebook—the college-ruled pages held little other than doodles and lyrics.

“Hey, Art,” a voice called out to him almost as soon as he was out the classroom door, and the teen turned to see another student walking towards him. The other was tall and thin, with white hair and red eyes and a grin to match his ego.

“Hey.” Arthur waited for the taller male to reach him then continued on his way to his locker to put away his books for his next class.

“What time are we meeting for practice tonight?” Gil leaned one shoulder against the locker beside Arthur’s and looked down at the blond.

“Six. Concert’s at eight—I want to run through the show at least once.” He stacked his books on the lower shelf and closed his locker door with a quiet slam.

“Cool. See you at six.”

“See ya.”

The two turned their separate ways and Arthur began the rather long trek to his next class—P.E. It was his last class of the day and he had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he hated P.E. Being forced to run circles with a bunch of sweaty idiots while the teacher blew his whistle as loud as possible wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. Athletics had never been his thing.

But, as he walked into the locker room and headed towards his locker in the back corner where he could change away from the eyes of the other boys, he couldn’t help but spot the one thing that made this class bearable.

Jones was already at his locker and changing, and while Arthur didn’t dare linger and look, he appreciated the physical traits of one of the school’s best athletes. He might not have the highest opinion of him, but there was no denying the other blond was attractive.

When he changed, Arthur kept his side to the rest of the room. He didn’t want anyone getting too clear of a view of his chest or back, so he was quick to strip off his two shirts and replace them with the loose vest top he wore for this class. Gym shorts that he hated replaced his skinny jeans, and a pair of plain tennis shoes took over for his converse. These new clothes hung around his frame, obviously too big for him, and he knew he looked ridiculous. Baggy clothing just didn’t suit him, and certainly not baggy sportswear. And he had to take out all of his piercings, which left him feeling a bit naked and boring.

His mood deteriorated significantly by his attire, Arthur left the locker room along with everyone else and filed into the gym. They had to wait along one set of folded bleachers for the girls to finish changing, and idle chit-chat took place during those few minutes. Arthur placed himself next to the only person in this class that he actually talked to—a tall brunet with dark green eyes—and they both leaned against the bleachers.

“What torture is he putting us through today?” he asked, not loudly enough for anyone else to hear but enough so that his companion would understand his question.

Lifting an arm, the brunet pointed to where thin mats covered a large portion of the gym floor. “Wrestling.”

“Great.” Arthur couldn’t help the sarcasm that weighed down his voice.

Once the girls finally arrived, the P.E. instructor sent them on a five-lap warm up jog. Arthur’s companion was in the front of the group, his long legs and athletic body putting him right next to Jones. The two were just short of friends, having athletics in common. Arthur, meanwhile, kept towards the back. It wasn’t that he was slow or out of shape, he was just lazy and he didn’t see the point in trying really hard in a class he didn’t want to be in.

Five laps went by slowly, the class stretching out around almost half of the gym. If they’d had to go much farther, the leaders would have lapped the lagers, and that would have put Jones right in Arthur’s vicinity, just where he didn’t want him. Not while he was wearing these ugly clothes.

“Today we begin the wrestling portion of class,” the instructor announced while the students spaced themselves out on one half of the gym floor and stretched. “You’ll be put into pairs to practice the moves and holds. Tomorrow we’ll do single-round matches and rotate so everyone faces everyone. The pairs for today are Jones and Kirkland, Carriedo and—”

Arthur didn’t listen to the rest of the names being called. He was too busy trying to understand that he’d been paired with Jones. Why? Why the hell would their P.E. instructor think they were a good match for wrestling? They were physical opposites! He was short and skinny and Jones was tall and muscular! The jock was going to kick his ass! He didn’t stand a chance!

Green eyes glancing sideways, he spotted the other blond looking at him with just as much shock and confusion and apprehension as he knew was on his own face. They’d never been paired together before. Never. They’d barely said so much as a word to each other.

And now he’s going to be pinning me down on a mat for everyone to see.

Embarrassing, but…also a little exciting. He knew Jones was attracted to him and he would have to be an idiot not to be attracted right back, but he’d never meant to act on it. Even though the thought of having those arms wrapped around him, holding him tight against that chest, was enough to make his pulse race. Jones was sexy and there was no denying that. Wrestling him really wouldn’t be that bad. Mostly, it would be an awful sort of tease.

With the rest of the class, Arthur moved to the section of the gym where the mats were set up and warily squared off with his partner. He sort of expected Jones to say he’d take it easy, but the taller blond didn’t say a word. They just stood there, sizing each other up. Damn, the bastard looked good in his gym clothes. This sort of outfit suited him. A cutoff to display his arms, shorts that stopped just above his knees. He had the calves of a god. Not that Arthur looked.

“Shoes off!”

Right, no shoes on the mats. They were all going to have their sweaty feet out for each other to smell.

Arthur kicked his shoes off along with everyone else and removed his socks as an afterthought. Bare feet would give a better grip. He stepped up onto the mat and waited as Jones did the same, also shoeless and sockless and—why the bloody hell was that bastard shirtless?

The taller blond noticed his staring and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Doing his best to look mildly disgusted instead of impressed, Arthur crossed his arms. “You’ll sweat on me.”

“That’s going to happen either way.”

“This way is stickier.”

“We have to shower after this anyway. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is I’ll have your jock sweat all over my body.”

A smirk lifted one side of the bespectacled blond’s mouth. “Is that a bad thing?”

For the first time, Arthur didn’t have a comeback. This was the most they’d ever spoken to each other and of course he’d known there was some amount of attraction between them but that was blatant flirting and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He wouldn’t exactly mind what Jones was suggesting but people didn’t flirt with him first. He always made the first move. Always. He was Arthur Kirkland and he was in a punk rock band and no one hit on him first.

Don’t back down from that.

With the most deadpan look he could manage, Arthur shrugged. “Depends.”

Both boys stepped into the center of the mat just like everyone else was doing, but there was a certain amount of tension between them that didn’t exist with the other pairs.

From his superior height, Jones gave an amused grin as he looked down at the shorter blond. “Depends on what?”

“Depends on what I leave all over your body.”

The amusement became surprised and maybe a little impressed. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“I guess.”

The instructor’s whistle sounded at that moment but Arthur and Alfred didn’t look away from each other. They hadn’t broken eye contact in over a minute and they were both starting to feel the effects. Alfred’s earlier thoughts about marking the smaller male were resurfacing and he was starting to look forward to wrestling him.

Not the sort of wrestling I had in mind.

But it would have to do, and as the instructor guided them through a few basic moves, he let himself press a little closer to the green-eyed blond, gripped him a little tighter than was necessary.

“You’ll bruise me,” Arthur commented off-handedly.

“That’s the idea.”

Rolling his eyes, he shifted in the larger student’s hold and froze suddenly.

Are you fucking joking? He’s hard from this?

There was no mistaking it. Jones had a boner and it was being pressed rather firmly against Arthur’s ass as he was held against the mat.

With a breathless chuckle, he turned his head far enough to see the blue-eyed blond’s face. “Excited just from this? Wow.”

Alfred gave an almost imperceptible buck. “Shut up.”

“Oooh, someone’s got a temper. What’s the matter, your girlfriend won’t help you out with Jones Junior?”

Growling, Alfred roughly shoved the Brit down onto the mat and pinned his arm behind his back. “I told you to shut up.”

“I would but your dick’s still poking me.”

Another growl and the taller blond pressed closer, making sure Arthur could feel every bit of his anatomy. “If we weren’t in school, your ass’d be mine.”

Arthur used his free arm to push, forcing himself back against Alfred to rub just slightly. “Is that a promise, love?” His accent broke through more than normal, making his tone more teasing than it would have been.

“Yeah.” Alfred’s voice was strained.

“All right, break it up! Jones, get off him. The real matches aren’t until tomorrow.”

Rougher than necessary, Alfred pushed himself off the green-eyed student and stood. “Sorry.”

Standing and straightening his clothes, Arthur gave the taller blond a sidelong glance and a knowing look.

“What?” Alfred all but snapped, and Arthur grinned smugly.

“I knew you wanted me.” Before Alfred could say anything else, Arthur moved to stand just in front of him again. “I’ll make you a deal, Jones,” he whispered, looking up at the athlete through his bangs. “You come to my concert tonight, and I’ll let you put more than your sweat all over me.”

For a moment, Alfred was left speechless, then he cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “When and where is this concert of yours?”

Arthur grinned—today was turning out much better than expected.

X

He’d never been so out of his element in his life. Of course he’d known Arthur wasn’t the only punk in the world, but being surrounded by them wasn’t something he’d ever expected to experience. Yet there he was, dressed in jeans and a plain back tshirt, standing in a dark, grassy area with a stage set up in front of some trees. Large speakers stood to either side of the stage, and a rack full of lights hung above, waiting. Voices sounded from every direction and Alfred hoped he didn’t look too out of place. He was just there to see Arthur perform so he could finally make the little fucker shut his damn mouth. Or open it and keep it open…both. Both would be good.

If it had been up to him, he would have skipped this concert nonsense. He hadn’t even known Arthur was in a band until earlier today and he wasn’t sure he was going to enjoy this type of music. Mostly, he listened to rock, not punk. But he was willing to put up with it. It couldn’t be that bad, and it would be worth it. After the concert, Arthur would finally be his.

No strings attached. No one’s gonna know.

This couldn’t get back to school. If people knew he was screwing the biggest punk in the area, his entire reputation would be thrown off track. He was going to do this just once, just to get Arthur and his stupid lip rings and his damn eyes out of his system. One night would be enough—it was just a crush, anyway. Just an infatuation. He, Alfred F. Jones, had too many options to settle for a troublemaker like Arthur. This was for fun because that smaller blond had offered. A concert in exchange for a good fuck? No way was he going to pass this up.

Suddenly, a guitar thrum blasted from the speakers and the people around Alfred screamed and cheered, almost making him flinch.

“Ladies and Gents!” a familiar voice shouted over the fading note. “We welcome you to our concert tonight! We’re gonna play a few of your favorites and a couple new ones you might recognize! Now, please, let me hear you scream for Firebite!”

Light flooded the stage as the concert’s attendants did just as they’d been told, screaming and throwing their fists into the air. Four figures stood out on the stage, each with an arm raised in welcome. The surge of energy their appearance caused swept over Alfred and he found himself cheering along with the rest of them despite having never heard of Firebite before this moment. He wasn’t quite close enough to the stage to make out the band members’ faces, but he still knew which one was Arthur. The green-eyed blond was second from the right, a guitar slung low across his waist, and probably grinning like a madman. Alfred couldn’t wait to get his hands on him when all of this was over, but for the moment he was enjoying the energy and enthusiasm that the crowd was giving off, and as the band members lowered their hands and he watched them rearrange themselves for the first song, he decided he didn’t really mind having to wait until after the concert. Watching Arthur perform might just make this whole night a hell of a lot more exciting, and that was saying something.

Chapter Text

After the concert was chaos. People were moving in herds, some towards the stage and some towards the park exits. Alfred found himself nearly alone for the first time since arriving at the park, and he moved with single-minded determination. The last thing Arthur had said to him hours earlier rang in his head and urged him on, making him impatient.

Come backstage after the concert. My parents aren’t home tonight, so we’ll go to my place. And don’t disappoint me, Jones.

All he had to do was get backstage and that damn punk wouldn’t be such a fucking tease anymore.

With his chin up and his expression set to discourage anyone getting in his way, Alfred approached the crowd of those who’d stayed. They were surrounding the stairs that led to behind the stage, blocked off by a yellow rope and a rather intimidating man who looked like he probably worked as a bouncer when he wasn’t doing stuff like this. Unfortunately for Al, he couldn’t see any way through the crowd in order to reach the stairs, and how was he supposed to get past that bouncer? He was quick and he was strong but that didn’t mean he wanted to get into a fistfight with some guy. Arthur hadn’t given him a backstage pass or any special instructions, what was he supposed to do now?

Did he set me up?

It seemed a little too likely for Alfred’s tastes. Trust that little asshole to lure him here with the promise of sex then leave him high and dry. Fucking punk. He was gonna get his ass kicked tomorrow when Al—

“Hey, you Al Jones?”

The sound of an unfamiliar voice saying his name drew the athlete’s attention and he looked up to find the bouncer pointing directly at him.

“Uh, yeah.”

Twisting his hand, the bouncer curled his finger. “C’mere.”

A little uncertain, Al moved forward through the crowd as the other people parted to let him through. They were staring, which made him uncomfortable, but he tried not to show it. No way was he going to let these punks know he was intimidated by them. Because he wasn’t. Not even a little.

“What?” he asked once he’d reached the foot of the stairs, and the bouncer unhooked the yellow rope.

“Artemis told me to let you in.”

Artemis? Who the fuck was Artemis? But Alfred didn’t argue or say that he didn’t know an Artemis. Someone had said to let him backstage and that was exactly what he wanted, so he wasn’t going to take any chances in screwing it up.

“Okay.” He grinned and started up the stairs, passing the bouncer and pausing as the yellow rope was put back into place.

“Go up.” The bouncer shooed Alfred with one hand. “He’s waiting.”

“Hey, why does he get to go?”

“I wanna meet Artemis!”

“He’s not even punk!”

Some of the concert’s other attendees began to shout angrily at the bouncer and pushed forward against the rope. Alfred waited just long enough to see the man bark orders at them before he went up the rest of the stairs and found himself behind the stage. It was mostly dark, with bright lights hanging from the ceiling that didn’t really do much for the corners and near the walls. That didn’t matter, though, because the one thing Alfred wanted at that moment was standing only a few feet away, hands on his hips and that stupid smirk on his face.

Approaching the other male, Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Artemis, huh?”

Arthur shrugged one shoulder. “It’s punkier than Arthur is, and lots of famous punk rock stars have stage names.”

“So would you prefer I call you Artemis?”

“Baby,” the smirk became more seductive and Arthur slid up to Alfred’s side, wrapping an arm around the tall blond’s waist, “you can call me whatever you want.”

Baby? Huh.

Alfred grinned and slung his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “I can deal with that.”

“I knew a big tough guy like you could handle it.” Still with their arms around each other, the two blonds crossed the backstage area and headed towards a small door set in the back.

Expression cool and posture relaxed, Alfred acted like he had every right to be touching Arthur like this as they walked. “How’d that bouncer guy know who I was?”

“I told him to look for a tall, gorgeous blond with stupid glasses.” Arthur was going to pay for that one, he knew it just from the way Alfred’s arm shifted around his shoulders, but he kept his grin in place. He’d been teasing Jones far too long to get all submissive now—that would come later, when the athlete proved that he deserved Arthur’s obedience. “I’m already packed up, so we can get out of here. You need anything?”

“Nope.”

“Then let’s go.”

There was no one crowding this door, which Alfred was thankful for. The last thing he needed was to be spotted by someone he knew with his arm around Arthur Kirkland, Punk Rock Extraordinaire. So he considered it lucky that they left the stage and people behind and walked alone to where Arthur and the other band members and staff had parked. The green-eyed blond drove a plain black car, though as soon as he clicked the unlock button and the lights came on, Alfred could see the green and black seat covers and steering wheel cover.

“What is it with you and black and green?” he asked, only half joking, as he and Arthur slid into the two front seats.

“It’s my favorite color.”

“But isn’t this overdoing it a little?”

“Nope.”

Alfred made a face that clearly said he thought the shorter blond was a little bit nuts, but he didn’t say anything. They were quiet for the drive, no longer touching each other, and not speaking, because the reality of what was only a few minutes away had dawned on them. Alfred and Arthur, after having said barely a word to each other for years, were on their way to the Brit’s house to have sex, and neither one knew quite how to feel about it.

Excited. Nervous. Eager. Curious about how this was going to turn out, about what exactly was going to happen when they finally got the chance to release all that pent up sexual tension they’d been trying to ignore for all this time.

God damn Alfred was curious. He wanted to know what that tattoo was and if Arthur had more than one, he wanted to know how many piercings he was going to find on the smaller male’s body, wanted to know how that skin was going to taste and what sounds were going to escape past snakebit lips, how Arthur would move and react to everything he meant to do to him. He was so, so fucking curious, and getting more impatient by the minute.

How far away was his house? Too much longer of sitting in silence like this and Alfred was going to say something stupid. He didn’t know what, but he was sure it would be stupid. Something lame and awkward, maybe flirtatious in a vaguely creepy way, just to try to break the silence.

“Almost there.”

Thank god.

Curious about where the smaller blond lived, Alfred leaned and peered out his window. He was surprised to find himself in the less fortunate part of the city—he’d had no idea Arthur lived in this neighborhood. But they were still driving, encountering dirtier streets and smaller houses, shitty looking apartment buildings and tiny stores that advertised liquor and cigarettes more than anything else. Wait, was that gas station being robbed?! Arthur lived here? This was the worst part of the city!

Alfred was too shocked to voice any of his thoughts as Arthur pulled into a small, not very well lit or marked parking lot behind one of the smaller apartment buildings. The green-eyed blond was so sarcastic and cynical and snarky, he didn’t act like he came from this sort of place at all. He had so much pride. He was in a band. He had piercings and tattoos, and Alfred refused to believe they were cheap because he knew Arthur would never get shitty body mods. How did someone like Arthur come from a place like this?

Neither boy said anything as they left the car—Arthur checked twice to make sure it was locked—and headed for the apartment building’s back door. It wasn’t locked, so they walked right in, though Alfred was a little bit hesitant to touch anything and almost tripped going up the steps because they were broken. Up a shabby, narrow staircase that smelled distinctly unpleasant and was lit by a single lightbulb at the top. Only two stories, but it looked like the stairs went down into a basement. Al hoped there weren’t apartments down there. That would be a terrifying place to live. But then, this whole building—no, this whole neighborhood—was sort of terrifying.

At the top of the stairs, Arthur stopped and selected one of the few keys from the ring he was carrying and unlocked the door marked with a tarnished silver three. There was only one other door, that one labeled with a four, and a couple of windows that gave a view of the street in front of the building. Alfred let himself hope that the apartment on the other side of that door would be decent, but as Arthur pushed it open and they stepped inside, he found himself very, very wrong. Old gray carpet that looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in months, off-white, stained walls with cracks running across them, a light fixture hanging from the ceiling with only two of five working bulbs, dust and trash everywhere. The coffee table was being held up by a stack of what looked like porn magazines under its broken leg, and the TV was so old Alfred couldn’t remember ever having actually seen one like it outside his grandparents’ house when he was little. He wasn’t even sure it would work if he turned the dial. The couch had rips in it that made him wonder if there weren’t rats living in the stuffing.

Shit, what did he say? He’d sort of thought Arthur would live in a nicer neighborhood with typical middle class working parents and a decent house, not this smelly hell hole of an apartment building. Any plan of complimenting the Brit on his home was completely destroyed.

“Well, this isn’t what I expected,” he commented lamely, and Arthur looked at him, his expression defensive.

“What did you expect?”

“Uh, a house. Furniture. Just not…this.”

“Well this is all I have. If you don’t like it, you can get a taxi back to your rich daddy’s house and forget about the deal.” There was so much bite in Arthur’s tone that Alfred raised his hands in self defense.

“Whoa, I didn’t mean to piss you off. I honestly just thought a guy like you would live in a different part of town.”

Green eyes stared at him, almost glaring, and Arthur turned on his heel to stalk away through the apartment, his bony shoulders hunched slightly. “If you’re staying, come on. If you’re going, there’s the door.”

For a moment, Alfred hesitated. Did he want to go any farther into this place, even for the sake of getting laid? For the sake of all those fantasies that had tormented for he wasn’t sure how long?

………yep.

Quickly, he caught up to Arthur and followed the shorter blond past a small bathroom and a frighteningly dirty kitchen into the farthest back room of the apartment. Walking into Arthur’s bedroom was like walking into a whole nother building.

“Whoa.” Alfred’s tone was impressed as he said it for the second time, looking around in curious appreciation. “Nice.”

The walls had been painted white and were covered in posters of movies and punk bands to cover up the cracks. A large black rug covered most of the floor, and both of the lights came on when Arthur flicked the switch on the wall. Both of the windows were open to let in the cool night air, and there were candles on the ledges to get rid of the smell that permeated the rest of the building. Arthur’s room smelled like…mint and chocolate.

It was kind of sexy, if Alfred was honest with himself.

There was also no trash to be seen, except for in the bin in the corner, and the bed was neatly made with the typical black and green bed sheets and covers. One wall held nothing but a small door that was probably a closet, and it bore yet another band poster. A dresser, painted a dark gray, sat in another corner, and beside it was a small desk that held Arthur’s school books. One of them was open to an assignment they’d received earlier that day—Alfred was surprised to see that his companion had bothered to do homework before his concert.

Arthur watched the taller blond examine his room, a little smug. “You didn’t think I’d put up with the same shit my parents do, did you?”

“Nope. It’s closer to what I expected. I like it. It suits you.”

Clearly surprised by that reaction, Arthur stared for a moment before looking away to hide the fact that he’d actually started to blush a little. “Right. Good. Anyway.”

“So,” Alfred started, gaze sliding over to look at Arthur out of the corners of his eyes, “you still wanna do this?” The Brit looked up at him, considering his question, then shrugged and started crossing the room.

“Depends.”

Not this again.

“Depends on what?” He had to force himself to sound patient as he followed Arthur as closely as he dared. Suddenly, the Brit turned and the two were almost chest-to-chest, less than an inch of space between their bodies.

“On if you’re going to stop acting like such a fucking pussy and do something or if you’re going to keep tiptoeing around like you might catch tetanus if you touch a doorknob.”

Son of a bitch.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Alfred replied, his eyebrows raised as he fought a grin. It was nice to be taunted without having to resist responding in any way.

“I hope that’s not all you’re gonna do.” Arthur cast a somewhat seductive look over his shoulder as he turned and sat on the bed, crossing one leg over the other. He was wearing tight pants again, but they weren’t jeans. They were black leather, and the way they hugged every little bit of his legs made Alfred desperate to know if his imagination was at all accurate about the other blond’s body. The pants were the only difference from the outfit he’d worn to school that day, but the longer Alfred looked at him, the less he cared about the clothes. Clothes didn’t matter. Clothes were nothing but in the way.

God he wanted there to be no more clothes.

Without wasting another second, Alfred reached out and wrapped his fingers securely around Arthur’s wrist, yanking the smaller male to his feet. He didn’t give him a chance to protest, just spun him around and shoved him forward until he had the Brit pinned against the wall.

“Well this is interesting,” Arthur commented, his tone just short of sarcastic, though he fell silent when a larger body pressed against his back and hands started sliding over his hips.

Like he’d thought about just that afternoon, Al let his tongue brush over those rings in Arthur’s ear then caught one between his teeth and tugged gently. “You’re gonna shut up if you want me to fuck you,” he growled after the ring slipped from his grasp, and Arthur chuckled.

“You sound like you think I want this more than you do, but you’re the one rubbing your dick against my arse.”

Another growl escaped him and Alfred pressed his hips forward, hands braced against the wall so that Arthur had nowhere to go. “I fucking know you want it, or you wouldn’t have offered the deal.”

“So confident,” the green-eyed Brit sighed, as if it was sad. Even though he wasn’t showing it, Arthur was already starting to feel the first little tingles of arousal creeping through his body. It was kind of difficult not to push back and whine and beg for Alfred to actually do something to him. More. He wanted more now just like he’d wanted more during P.E. class, only now he could actually have it. He had Alfred Jones pressed up against him in his bedroom, growling into his ear and that was delicious, not to mention the rather sizable lump that wasn’t quite grinding into his backside. And the way the athlete had toyed with his helix rings? Fucking sexy. Arthur had had his fair share of partners, but they’d barely gotten started and he was already starting to think Alfred Jones was going to be his favorite mistake.

“Yeah.” A bit roughly, Alfred moved one hand down to Arthur’s hip and rubbed, forcing the smaller male to move just slightly. “You’ve teased me every fucking day for years. Tonight, I’m taking everything you ever offered.”

Yes, god, please.

“I’ll be convinced when you actually do something.” Why the hell wasn’t he taking the bait? Arthur was setting the idiot up to treat him like his bitch and Alfred was fucking stalling! He should have at least been shirtless by now!

Behind him, Alfred had closed his eyes and was counting to ten in his head. He didn’t want to hurt Arthur, just wanted to teach him a lesson. Maybe there would be some pain involved, but not out of anger. If the Brit kept up this damn teasing, though, he might not be able to help it. His temper might get away from him. “Arthur.”

“Yes?” The shorter blond was innocent even as he dug his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking control.

“I don’t wanna hear another word out of you unless I’m making you scream.”

Arthur twisted his head around to smirk up at Alfred, his tongue sticking out. “What about begging?” he asked playfully, and a large hand gripped his chin.

“Begging is allowed.”

“Oh, goody.”

His first reaction being to roll his eyes, Alfred had to sigh and shake his head before he tightened his grip on Arthur’s chin and leaned, almost hitting his head against the wall, and kissed him. Immediately, pierced lips parted and teeth caught his lip, tugging before a tongue traced across Alfred’s mouth. Something round and hard dragged against his skin—Arthur had a tongue stud. Taken off-guard, the athlete’s grip loosened, and Arthur managed to turn his smaller frame until his back was to the wall and he could slip his hands down a muscular chest to the hem of a t-shirt. He started to lift, and Alfred lifted his arms as soon as he realized what the guitarist wanted. They removed his shirt together, eyes meeting once the garment had been tossed onto the floor. Arthur was biting his lip, looking up through green-tipped bangs, fingers resting against Al’s lower stomach.

That was probably the most innocent sexy face Alfred had ever seen. “Aw, fuck.” Quickly, he tangled a hand in golden blond hair and drew Arthur forward to kiss him again, tilting his head and plundering the Brit’s mouth before another word could be said. Arthur moaned quietly, eyes falling closed and hands moving to hips, pulling to bring his body closer to Alfred’s. It always felt good to have someone else against him, but this was something else. This was…perfect.

Since Alfred was so much taller than he was, it was easy for the athlete to dominate the kiss almost completely, but Arthur wasn’t one to meekly let another man’s tongue fuck his throat. For a few moments, he was pliant and malleable in Alfred’s hands. He let the other blond push him back against the wall again, let a hand wander up his stomach under his shirts, let teeth catch and nip his lips and snake bites, let Alfred’s tongue explore and investigate the metal stud going through his own tongue. And he moaned. He gasped at Alfred’s touch and whined every time the ash blond withdrew, clung to him like any needy bitch would. Because he was feeling pretty needy, but he was also playing up his reactions considerably to egg Alfred on. This was good, but he wanted great. He wanted god-like, wanted heaven. He wanted the punishment and fucking that Alfred had kept saying he was going to get. So he was perfectly submissive, until the kiss started to lose its almost forceful edge.

As soon as he realized Alfred was backing off, Arthur growled and pushed back, wrapped his arms tight around the athlete’s neck. His hips rolled, rubbing their groins together, and he attacked Alfred’s mouth as if he meant to claim it for the rest of eternity. To his delight, Alfred grabbed onto him and shoved him against the wall so hard it almost hurt his back, came back with renewed vigor. Except Arthur didn’t back down and be submissive this time. He kept kissing the bespectacled blond until he was fighting for breath, until Alfred was fighting, too, until he was only a few seconds away from pulling himself up and wrapping his legs around the other male’s waist to press closer, to increase that wonderful, exquisite friction that was making him arch his back and move his hips in a shamefully desperate way.

Finally, he started to get too lighted-headed to continue and pulled back, gasping Alfred’s name as he did, and leaned his head back against the wall in order to catch his breath. Breathing just as hard, Alfred let his forehead press against the Brit’s and smiled crookedly.

“Fuck,” he commented breathlessly, then chuckled, and Arthur grinned.

“Yes, please.”

“God you’re such a tease.”

“You like it.”

“Heh. Yeah.”

While Arthur watched, Alfred ducked down and latched his mouth onto the side of the Brit’s neck, teeth digging into pale flesh and tugging as he sucked. His tongue laved; he slid his hand out from under Arthur’s shirts and around, down to cup his ass and squeeze.

Arthur let his head tilt to the side, giving Alfred more room to bite and lick, and he shifted between muscular body and teasing hand. “Mm…Al…”

Oh, he liked the sound of that, and he meant to make Arthur say it over and over again, in whimpers and moans and screams and any other pretty sound he could drive out of him.

“Al…” Slowly, Arthur relaxed his arms and let his fingers trail down Alfred’s chest, tracing over shoulders and pecks and that god-like six pack to the finely defined hip bones. His fingers encountered denim and halted their downward path, began moving inwards until they found the buckle of a belt. And, while Alfred was busy leaving a series of hickeys on Arthur’s throat, the Brit slid the belt free of its buckle. He moved onto the button after that, then the zipper, delicately drawing it down and groaning softly when Alfred’s mouth wandered up to his ear and began playing with his helix rings again. Each one was licked and tugged, all the way up and around. It almost tickled.

Just as he was gripping the fabric of Al’s jeans in order to pull them down, the athlete suddenly stepped back away from him, gripping his wrists and moving them away from his jeans.

Confused and annoyed, Arthur glared. “What the bloody hell are you doing?” he demanded, and Alfred smirked.

“You first.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Trust Alfred to interrupt things just to be a picky asshole. But arguing wouldn’t do him any good so he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Still with that stupid damn smirk, Alfred released the smaller male and stepped back. “Then strip.”

He had to be fucking joking. Arthur had helped him with his shirt, and done his belt and jeans! The least the git could do was return the favor! As he glared, though, Arthur realized that the athlete wasn’t about to give in. If he wanted to continue, he was going to have to follow Alfred’s orders.

Oh.

Realization dawned. How had he not realized it before? It was so simple.

A devious grin took over the Brit’s features; he clasped his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall. “You’d love for me to follow your orders, wouldn’t you, Alfred.”

Al clearly didn’t see where Arthur was going with this. “It’d be nice.”

“Yeah, it would. But I think you want more from me than just my compliance. I think you want my complete obedience. I think you want to bend me to your will and make me fulfill every dirty little fantasy in that head of yours. Right? Wouldn’t that be nice? If I was your pretty little plaything for a night? Let you dress me up and strip me down, tease me until I beg for you, then torment me some more? Stretch me so wide I can’t possibly take anymore then fill me up over and over until the only thing I can do is call out for ‘Master Alfred’ while you fuck me raw?” Pushing away from the wall, Arthur slinked across the short distance Alfred had put between them. He placed a hand on the taller blond’s chest, felt his heart pounding behind his ribs, looked down at the bulge in Al’s jeans and licked his lips. “Yeah, you want me dripping and begging, maybe even tied up so I’m helpless to relieve myself. You want me begging and pleading until you have enough mercy to take pity on me and let me cum. Wouldn’t it be nice, Master? If I was your good boy?”

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Alfred had never heard anything like that in his life. Was he breathing? Maybe. Maybe not. He wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. Yeah, he wanted all those things Arthur had just described. He’d never really thought of it as being the Brit’s master, but damn that was a hot picture in his head. Would Arthur really let him do all that?

“….are you serious?”

Arthur nodded, his gaze lowered submissively. “Yes, Master.”

God damn. Okay. How did he respond? Was he just supposed to start giving him orders? How specific was he supposed to be? He’d never done this sort of thing before. What if he screwed it up? Would Arthur laugh at him? That would be the worst embarrassment of his life. Shit.

Waiting.

Waiting.

It’s not that bloody hard. Just tell me what to do. Give me a command. Make me your bitch. Come on, Alfred. Where’s all that dominance from a bit ago?

What was taking so long? He hadn’t said all that just so Alfred would lose his nerve and do nothing. It looked like he was going to have to do a little more tempting, maybe some taunting, teasing and provoking. That was what worked before, there was no reason for it not to work now.

Hiding his annoyance, Arthur reached up and lightly kissed the athlete’s chest. “Master?”

“Yeah?” As he’d feared, Alfred sounded hesitant and nervous.

“Are you going to punish me? I’ve been bad…”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah.”

“Master doesn’t sound too sure. Maybe he isn’t mad? Maybe he isn’t going to punish me?” They looked at each other for a moment, Arthur’s eyes wide and innocent as he pouted slightly. In contrast, Alfred’s eyes were narrowed as he thought, and soon he was frowning.

“No, I’m definitely going to punish you. So,” he arched an eyebrow and grabbed Arthur’s chin almost painfully tight, lifting until the shorter blond was forced onto the tips of his toes, “first, you’re going to admit what you did wrong, and you’re going to apologize. Then I’m going to punish you, and if I don’t think your apology is sincere, your punishment will be that much worse. We’ll keep going until I think you’re really sorry.”

Now that was more like it. Seemed like Alfred was going to fill his role just fine.

“Y-yes, Master…”

“Good. Now, tell me what you did.”

With an apologetic expression, Arthur looked down as much as he was able, which wasn’t much considering Alfred hadn’t let go of his chin. “Made Master angry,” he whispered, tone almost frightened.

“Yes, you did. But be specific, Arthur. What did you do to make me angry?”

“Teased…”

“Yeah.” Using his grip on the shorter male, Alfred pulled Arthur closer until their noses almost brushed, until it was a struggle for Arthur to maintain his balance and their chests touched. “You teased me when you knew I wouldn’t do anything to you for it. You made my life hell, and you liked doing it. Isn’t that right?”

Arthur whimpered, nodding, knowing it would make his “punishment” that much worse. God he was looking forward to this. Alfred was perfect. He’d slipped into his role as Master as if he’d done it a hundred times, as if they were lovers and this was their favorite game. To be honest, it was one of Arthur’s favorites. He rather liked the thrill of not knowing what exactly was going to be done to him, or when he might be given a break. It was exciting and it was bloody sexy. Alfred was sexy. Just the look in his eyes, that dominant, aggressive, no-nonsense look, made Arthur really believe that the taller blond wasn’t going to give him an inch, and it was going to be glorious.

Shaking his head, Alfred tsked his tongue and sighed. “Such a naughty pet. I thought I trained you better than that. Or maybe,” he leaned close now, head tilted, mouth so close to Arthur’s that the green-eyed teen could feel breath against his lips, “maybe you really like what I do to you. Hm? You always beg for more. You moan and move like a whore, like my personal, pretty little slut. The sounds you make…so sexy.” Alfred smirked, watching as Arthur’s cheeks flushed a dark pink and he toyed with his lip ring in a nervous way, felt him shift his weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, you’re naughty, but you like it. You love when I mark you, when I touch you and make you squirm. Such a dirty little slut.”

He was talking like they’d done this countless times and Arthur was starting to wish that they had. How many times had he had opportunities to approach the athlete and hadn’t? How many times had he passed up a chance to experience this spine-tingling foreplay? Too many. Too fucking many.

“M-Master…I…I…”

“You, what? Are you going to deny it? That would be a lie, Arthur, and we both know it. If you lie to me, I’ll have to punish you for that, too.” Alfred chuckled. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

Shit, he was good. His momentary hesitation a bit ago might as well not have happened. He was a natural. He was making Arthur nervous and impatient and needy and hell no one else had been able to get to him so quickly, not during this game.

Quiet, Arthur lowered his gaze again and let his voice come out small and meek. “Yes, Master.”

Alfred smirked and brushed his thumb over the Brit’s lips, toying with the rings. “That’s what I thought.” He was finally going to get to bend Arthur to his will and show him who was boss, teach him a lesson, make him sorry for all that damn teasing, and he was going to love every minute of it. “Now, since I know you’re not sorry, why don’t you be a good boy and strip? I’d hate to make you wait for your punishment.”

In his head, Arthur was dying. This was wicked. This was perfect. Yes. Yes. Yes. He would strip, he’d beg and apologize and beg some more, he’d do anything Alfred wanted, just as long as he kept talking like that. So bloody sexy. But outwardly, all he did was nod obediently, and then Alfred let him go.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Arthur.”

Ducking his head, the shorter blond nodded again and shyly turned his back on the other male. He acted hesitant and nervous as he pulled the fishnet off over his head, dropping it by his feet, and reached for his vest top with trembling fingers.

After this, things were really going to start moving. It would be a whirlwind of teasing and foreplay and a whole hell of a lot of dirty abuse talk, and then, finally, they would fuck. More than once, hopefully. Probably. Definitely, if Alfred was up to it, which he would bet the American was. Yeah, they were going to shag until one of them couldn’t move anymore. Hopefully, that would be Arthur, but he wouldn’t mind finishing Al off even if he was exhausted to the point of collapse. He certainly hoped he would be exhausted by the time they finished.

It was going to be brilliant, and as he started to lift his shirt, he could feel Alfred’s eyes on him like a touch. The tension that had always existed between them was so heavy now that he could have grabbed it and ripped it, crumpled it into a ball, cut it apart. Anticipation hung in the air. As of a few minutes ago, he was Alfred’s personal, pretty little slut, and he was going to play his part until he couldn’t even move, like a good pet should.

Chapter Text

Arthur was beautiful. It wasn’t a word Alfred had ever thought he would apply to the punk, but as he watched the green of the smaller male’s vest top slide against his pale skin and slowly reveal his back, it was the only word he could think of. Well, beautiful, and damn sexy. And it looked like that tattoo he was so curious about went lower than the Brit’s shoulder blades. Damn.

It was obvious that Arthur was still trying to tease him a little by taking his time with this, but Alfred honestly didn’t mind. For once, he was enjoying it immensely. The fact that Arthur was stripping for him was enough, and really it was hot to see such a slender body exposed so slowly. And that tattoo—it was a rip-skin, with colors underneath that looked like…oh. Ooh. He was definitely going to drag his tongue over that.

Finally, the vest top hit the floor and Arthur hugged himself, glancing over his shoulder with wide, uncertain green eyes to assess the other blond’s reaction. Alfred was grinning, one side of his mouth quirked up higher than the other as he examined his soon-to-be-lover’s body. Beautiful. Sexy. Perfect. And all his for the rest of the night.

Hell yeah.

“I like this,” he commented in a low voice, reaching out to stroke his fingers along the inked portion of Arthur’s back. Rip-skins had always seemed like a cool idea to him, but he’d never seen one in person. Now that he knew it was what Arthur had, he was almost surprised he hadn’t thought of it himself. Of course the smaller male would have a rip-skin of the Union Jack. It made perfect sense.

“Thank you, Master.”

Man, he enjoyed hearing that more and more every time Arthur said it. For someone as sarcastic and snarky as the Brit was, he was pretty damn good at the whole submissive thing.

“You’re welcome.” Moving closer, Alfred settled his hands on the golden blond’s hips to hold him still as he ducked down and gently licked the tattoo. Arthur smelled like peppermint, matching the candles on his windowsills, and Alfred wasn’t the least bit surprised. Weren’t mint leaves green? Yeah. Arthur would totally smell like mint. The touch of his tongue made the green-eyed boy shift, made his back arch slightly and it sounded like he’d breathed in a little more sharply than normal. “You like that, Artie?” Alfred whispered, keeping his head lowered so that Arthur would feel his breath on his back. “That feel good?”

“Yes…”

“Good.” Slower this time, the taller blond licked the tattoo then let his tongue trail along the ragged edges of Arthur’s “ripped” skin. By the time he made it all the way around, Arthur was trembling in his grasp and he was pretty sure he’d heard the Brit mutter under his breath once or twice. It was funny and kind of cute. But as much as he would have liked to continue with these gentle licks and maybe graduate to kisses and then bites and maybe hickeys, he also wanted to see how well the smaller blond would do with continuing to follow orders, so he placed a lingering kiss on one of the marks he’d left on Arthur’s neck a little while ago then stepped back again. “Finish.”

Arthur nodded meekly and busied his hands with the task of opening his belt. It was the black leather kind with the silver studs that go all the way around, so it never went on or came off easily, but he had plenty of practice with it. So when he had the buckle open, it was a matter of patience that he managed to slowly slide it free of his skinnies and dropped it on the floor off to the side. He made sure to lower his head while he worked on the button and zipper, making himself look smaller to help with the game he’d started. Alfred really was doing a fantastic job—no one had ever reacted to his tattoo quite like that and he’d really enjoyed the athlete’s treatment. It was different and…nice. He was kind of surprised Alfred actually liked it, since most merely tolerated it. In fact, he’d been teased about it before, which had ended with the other guy sporting a black eye and blue balls because Arthur never fucked anyone who dared to make fun of him.

But Alfred liked his tattoo. Alfred was playing along with his game and doing brilliantly. Alfred was making Arthur genuinely feel small and submissive and it was hard to come by partners who could do that since the Brit had such a strong personality. But Alfred was doing it. How was he ever going to be satisfied with anyone else after this?

Maybe…maybe if he was really good, if he was just absolutely fucking brilliant, the jock would want to do this again sometime. Maybe it could be a regular thing. God, he had to be perfect. He had to make Alfred want this just as much as he did or he would spend the rest of his high school career regretting this and wishing he’d done something different and hating anyone else the jock decided to date or sleep with, and he really didn’t want that. That would be horrible, the worst sort of punishment, and he really wasn’t prepared to deal with heartache over someone like Alfred Jones. Seducing Alfred into wanting no one but him was just about his only option.

Slowly as if he was uncertain, Arthur slipped his thumbs inside the waist of his trousers and started to tug them down. Now was a moment of revelation. What would Alfred think? He had to realize that Arthur couldn’t wear regular pants under such tight clothes, but this might be a little too much for the athlete. Almost nervous, he let his leather skinnies pool around his ankles and carefully stepped out of them, nudging them closer to his belt with his toes.

“Damn.”

There wasn’t enough intonation in Alfred’s voice for Arthur to know if that “damn” had been impressed or surprised or disgusted. He was curious as hell but he didn’t want to look if he was going to see the other male frowning. Still, he couldn’t just stand there, either, so he hugged himself again and stood with his legs held close together, head as low as it went.

“Is…Master pleased…?” he asked softly, looking down at his own skinny, pale body and hoping with every fiber of his existence that the answer would be yes because getting this far into the game only to ruin it with something as silly as what pants he wore would be the worst thing. This was too good for it to end with Alfred leaving in a hurry and him having to masturbate just to be able to function normally again.

“Hell yeah.” Okay, he was definitely impressed, and that put so much relief into Arthur that he almost sighed.

“I’m glad,” he replied instead, smiling to himself a little.

“So am I.”

Even though he didn’t hear it, Arthur felt the other male moving closer and nearly shivered with anticipation of Alfred’s touch. First, hands ghosted over the tops of his shoulders and stroked down his arms all the way to his wrists, then back up past his shoulders to his neck. Thumbs rubbed into the hair at the nape of his neck for a moment before those hands began the journey southward, following his spine and caressing the shape of his ribcage. When the touches neared his hips he straightened, lifted his head and tilted it so he could just barely see Alfred out of the corner of his eye.

The taller blond looked transfixed, his blue eyes locked on the body he was touching so carefully. Down to Arthur’s hips where the American’s hands paused to rub before ever so gently sliding onto thighs that were even paler than the rest of the green-eyed teen’s body. Al’s fingertips caressed the soft skin they found and stroked back up to encounter the thin bit of string that encircled the smaller blond’s hips. They caught it and curled, making Arthur wonder if he was going to be wearing it for much longer. But Alfred didn’t tug on it in any way, so maybe he meant to leave it, at least for now.

“Such a tiny scrap of fabric to cover such important parts, Arthur.”

Ugh fucking hell the way Alfred purred his name just about drove Arthur mad. And the tone he used? Like he thought Arthur had worn it purposefully for him—maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t—or like he should know better than to dress in a way that left him somehow vulnerable, was perfect for this game. Arthur felt almost embarrassed and like he should apologize, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he would apologize for.

“Hmmm…it looks good on you, though. And it’s so easy to move,” with one finger, Alfred gently pulled at the string until it came away from the smaller blond’s ass, “that I could fuck you with it on. Would you like that?”

God yes. Please. That would be so fucking hot. It would be torturous and embarrassing and it would be fantastic.

“If that’s what Master wants.”

“But I want to know what you want, Arthur. Do you like wearing your pretty little thong? Does it make you feel sexy?” Alfred was smirking as he asked, voice low and husky, eyes watching the slight shiver that went through his new pet. “It doesn’t really matter to me. I’m going to fuck you no matter what you’re wearing, but if you want to keep it on, don’t be afraid to say so.”

“I…um…yes…at first…”

“Then you can keep it on for now.”

Arthur nodded jerkily, almost painfully aware of the fact that Alfred still had the string of his thong caught on his finger and could easily snap it if he wanted to. But he was going to let Arthur wear it for a little longer yet and honestly the idea of the athlete shagging him while he wore it was pretty damn sexy.

The real question now was what would Alfred come up with next? Would he make Arthur lie on the bed? Kneel? Dance for him? Another breath-stealing kiss? There were so many possibilities that he didn’t even want to try to figure out what the other teen might come up with.

“Now, Arthur,” both of Alfred’s hands moved up to settle on the shorter blond’s shoulders and he put his mouth by Arthur’s ear to whisper, “I remember you saying something about me wanting to tie you up. So, why don’t you be good, and get out your toys? I know a dirty boy like you has plenty of them.”

Wow. Okay. No one had ever picked up on that before. Yeah, he had quite the collection of sex toys, but he almost never got them out for a request. Most of the time, he didn’t even tell his partners he had them. Alfred’s guess was a lucky one.

“Yes, Master.” Keeping his gaze down in a submissive fashion, Arthur stepped out of the taller male’s grasp and moved towards his closet. Inside, up on the top shelf and shoved back where it wasn’t noticeable, was an unmarked box. Arthur was overly aware of eyes on him as he went on his tiptoes to reach the box and finally managed to pull it down from the shelf. When he turned, he dared to glance at Alfred and found the athlete smirking sexily. Just that look told him that he was in for one hell of a night, and he set the box on his bed with a certain amount of apprehension.

“Open it.”

He did.

“Take everything out and set them neatly on the bed. I want to see what all my options are.”

Yeah, this was going to be one hell of a night.

Being careful, Arthur emptied the box and set each toy on top of his comforter, making sure they were neat and organized so that he wouldn’t incur some other sort of punishment from the athlete standing beside him. It was the first time someone else had gotten to see this, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. This was Alfred Jones, someone he went to school with and was going to have to see nearly every day for over a year, and he was about to use any combination of the items Arthur had just set out.

“I’m impressed, Arthur.” That was such a fucking understatement but he didn’t know what else to say. “Wow that’s a big collection of sex toys”? “Where did you get them all”? “Can I use them all on you”? No way was he saying anything that stupid. But, holy shit, he hadn’t even known this many types of toys existed. Arthur had it all and if he hadn’t been playing the role of Master then Alfred would probably have been a little intimidated. Clearly, the smaller blond was more experienced with this sort of sex than Al was.

There was a thick black collar with a ring for a chain—said chain was neatly coiled beside it—and a pair of padded handcuffs. Blindfolds. Gags. Vibrators and dildos in shapes and sizes that Alfred would never even dreamed existed. Cock rings of varying size and color—did that one glow in the dark? Wow. Fuck, there was a riding crop, too, and a bunch of leather straps with buckles that were probably restraints of some kind. Lotions and oils and at least three different types of lube, too. Yeah, he was definitely going to try out quite a few of these.

“Does Master know which ones he wants to use?” Arthur was looking up at him, still with that wide, innocent expression that promised he’d do anything Alfred wanted.

Hmmm….yeah.

Silent, Alfred picked up the collar and wrapped it around the smaller blond’s neck, fastening it securely but not so tightly that Arthur wouldn’t be able to breathe. It was already going to be hard enough or the Brit to catch his breath without added constriction. As soon as the buckle was set he latched the chain onto the ring and gave a gentle tug to test it, smiling slightly when it made Arthur lean forward. His grin grew and he used the chain to pull the green-eyed male towards himself until they were chest-to-chest, and he held Arthur there as he leaned down to kiss him. Teasingly, tauntingly, tasting his lips and nipping at them, using his tongue to toy with the snakebites. He could feel Arthur trembling against him, knew the punk wanted to grab him and deepen the kiss but was holding back with everything he had. It was amusing, to say the least.

When he was satisfied that he’d pushed Arthur’s patience to the limit, he slowly drew back and kissed his new pet’s forehead. “Good boy.”

A whine sounded in the back of Arthur’s throat but he didn’t say anything, merely waited for Alfred to make his next move.

Alfred kept his grip on the chain firm, though he allowed the Brit to take a couple steps back, and set his gaze on the remaining toys. It would be sexy as hell to cuff the shorter boy, but he thought those straps would be pretty damn hot, too. Maybe he could do one then the other. Cuff him to the headboard and drive him insane…use the straps while fucking him so he was completely helpless…yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

“Hands.” It was said casually but expectantly, and Arthur obediently held his hands out in front of himself as Alfred picked up the handcuffs. As if he’d done it countless times, the bespectacled blond locked one of the cuffs around a delicate-looking wrist then caught Arthur’s chin in his hand. He lifted, forcing green eyes to meet his own, and smiled. “Would you like to know how I’m going to punish you?”

For a moment, Arthur was quiet as he considered the question, then he licked his lip and nodded as much as the larger male’s grip would allow. “Yes, Master, please.”

Still holding onto his chin, Al set his free hand on Arthur’s lower back and pushed to bring him forward, pressing their hips together so the Brit would know exactly how turned on all of this was making the athlete—Alfred was satisfied to feel that his pet was just as aroused. “I’m going to tease you until you break, Arthur,” he whispered, so close that his lips almost brushed against the other teen’s, “until you’re crying and begging me to fuck you, screaming out in that pretty voice of yours. I’m going to make you lose your mind and then I’m going to do things to your sexy little body that no one’s ever done before. By the time I’m finished with you, you won’t even be able to look at me without remembering how it’ll feel for me to touch you, or the all the ways I’m going to make you scream. After this, you’ll be so busy trying to keep from pleasuring yourself at the sight of me to ever dare tease me again. Understand?”

His pupils dilated and mind busy picturing everything Alfred had just described, Arthur fought his body’s urge to buck and grind against the larger male and nodded slowly. “Yes, Master…”

“Good.” Stepping back, Alfred tugged at the chain with a little more force than before. “Clear off the bed, but don’t put any of those toys away. I’m not finished with them yet.”

Arthur whined and did as he was told, aware that Alfred was watching his every move with a hunger that convinced the Brit that he wasn’t going to be in any sort of shape for life tomorrow. It was a good thing he didn’t work, otherwise he would have had to call in sick, or gone in and been completely useless. When he had the bed cleared, the toys moved to his desk where Alfred would easily be able to get to them throughout the night, he turned and looked up at the American. “What next, Master?”

Good question. He wanted to make the pierced musician lie on the bed so he could cuff him to the frame and torment that perfect body until Arthur begged for him, but he also wanted Arthur all over him and that couldn’t happen if he tied the Brit down. Damn, this was harder than he’d thought. There were so many options—how was he supposed to choose?

I’ve got all night. Why not do it all?

Well, that settled it.

Grinning, the blue-eyed teen sat on Arthur’s bed and settled comfortably against the pillows. The chain was pulled on until Arthur came forward and crawled up to him, their faces only an inch apart.

“Pleasure me.”

Chapter Text

Just the sound of those two words made Arthur want to grin and nod, to stretch out for Alfred to see and then kiss him as seductively as he could manage. Oh, he could pleasure him all right. He could pleasure him until Alfred forgot his own name. But that would come later, if they ever decided to make this something other than a one-night-stand. So, instead, Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze leaving the athlete’s face and sliding down his muscular body. His first move was to settle himself against the larger teen so that he could roll and grind his hips in a gentle fashion as he started kissing Alfred’s neck. A hand began stroking through his hair and he heard Alfred sigh quietly.

“Master…my strong, handsome Master…” he crooned, letting a hand slide down the American’s torso and over the fabric of the jeans that, for some reason, still hung around the taller male’s muscular frame. A second later he felt Alfred arch beneath him and smiled, his hand pressing lightly against a jean-clad groin. “Master is big,” the green-eyed blond purred, letting his fingers spread and caress in a way that had Alfred tightening his grip on the chain.

“Are you teasing me, Arthur?” the bespectacled blond growled, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

Immediately, Arthur lowered his gaze from the other teen’s face and pulled his hand away. “No, Master, of course not.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Arthur nodded before he dared to place a hesitant kiss on Alfred’s throat. Lifting off the larger male, he set both hands to the task of tugging Alfred’s jeans down off his hips. Their current position meant he only managed to move them a few inches, but that was all he needed. His next move was to curl his fingers around the waistband of the grey plaid boxers Alfred was wearing and pull them down—the chain attached to his collar was tugged and he looked up into blue eyes.

“Yes, Master?”

A smirk appeared on Alfred’s handsome features and he pulled at the chain until Arthur leaned forward and their lips met in a kiss. It was gentler than Arthur would have expected, and he let his eyes fall shut as a hand slid down his back. Alfred’s tongue brushed against his lips as the American tilted his head, and Arthur obediently opened his mouth to let a quiet sigh escape him. The hand on his back started rubbing at the dip of his spine and Alfred began to explore his mouth again.

With part of his focus on the way Alfred was kissing him, Arthur used the rest of his mind to continue his task of pleasuring the larger male. Still kissing submissively, he braced one hand on the bed by Alfred’s ribs and started to palm the hardened mass between Alfred’s legs. The larger male moaned softly, his chest rising as he arched. Arthur grinned against his Master’s mouth and squeezed gently, letting his hand trace the shape behind those boxers. Like he’d said, Alfred was big, and he couldn’t wait to see what the larger teen meant to do.

Slowly, Arthur broke the kiss and began nipping at Alfred’s throat. He put just enough force into the action that it would leave small red marks on the other’s tanned skin. It was the perfect opportunity to investigate the other’s cologne—something dark and warm and sweet that made Arthur lick up to Alfred’s ear before the Brit really knew what he was doing.

“Arthur…”

His name was sighed in his ear, putting a smile on his lips, and he hummed to fee l Alfred’s hand sliding back to cup his rear.

“Master is so good to me,” Arthur whispered before kissing just under the other teen’s ear. “He treats me so well.” More kisses trailed down Alfred’s neck; the hand rubbed and squeezed patiently. “Even though I was bad, he lets me be close to him.” To make his point, Arthur let his weight rest against the other boy and nuzzled Alfred’s chest affectionately. A chuckle rumbled in the athlete’s chest, tickling Arthur’s ear, and he smiled before leaving a kiss over his Master’s heart.

While Alfred continued to let his fingers tease the sensitive skin of Arthur’s backside, the green-eyed musician left kisses trailing down his soon-to-be-lover’s torso. All those days spent teasing the athlete, admiring him in silence and knowing the desire was mutual, and now here he was. Straddling Alfred Jones, practically naked with the blue-eyed blond in his bed. All those muscles were his to touch and taste. Finally.

Gentle fingers trailed down his sides and Alfred let himself smile a little. The sight of Arthur practically worshipping him was more than welcome, and he was definitely enjoying all those soft kisses. And seeing the punk in nothing but a little black thong that he could get rid of whenever he wanted? He couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend his evening.

“Mm.” He shifted when the kisses moved to his lower stomach, grip tightening on the chain in his hand. “Arthur.”

Green eyes looked up at him; Arthur licked his lips in a way he knew had to be irresistible. “Yes, Master?”

“Take my boxers off.”

“Yes, Master.”

He watched as Arthur sat up and started pulling at his clothes again, though this time he helped enough that the smaller blond managed to free his hips and upper thighs of his clothes. It was amusing to watch the punk try to be discreet in his examination of Alfred’s newly exposed anatomy.

“You know what to do, Arthur,” Alfred said quietly, giving the chain a gentle tug.

“Yes.”

Carefully, Arthur moved back and leaned down to brush his lips against Alfred’s thigh. This skin wasn’t as golden as the rest of the athlete, but it wasn’t pale, either.

He must tan.

The thought of Alfred lying naked in the sun was enough to make Arthur smirk, but he didn’t let himself get distracted—his Master was waiting.

Looking up to meet blue eyes, the tattooed teen slowly leaned down to ever so gently kiss the tip of Alfred’s erection. He wanted to tease the other male so badly that it made his body ache a little. It would be easy. Pin his hips to the bed and torment him for what Alfred would think was hours. It would be so bloody easy.

At least, it would have been if there hadn’t been a collar around his neck.

Instead of teasing like he wanted, Arthur settled his weight on his knees and braced his forearms on Alfred’s hips. Gently, he stroked his fingers over the other teen’s member and kissed the tip again. Fingers curled into his hair and he glanced up to find Alfred frowning down at him.

“Don’t take too long, Artemis.” The chain clinked softly as Alfred arranged it on his chest and stomach. “We have your punishment to look forward to, after all.” He smirked then, and gently used his grip on the golden blond’s hair to force Arthur’s head down. The smaller male was left with little choice but to open his mouth and accept the length Alfred obviously wanted him to focus on. He loosened his jaw and relaxed his throat in preparation but Alfred stopped pushing after he’d taken only the first couple of inches—less than half.

Arthur made a sound of protest and pulled against the larger male’s grip until Alfred’s fingers relaxed. In the next moment, he had the entirety of the athlete’s member in his mouth and tickling the back of his throat.

“Good boy.” It was all Alfred could think to say. Well, that was a lie. There were a lot of things he was thinking that he could have said, but that one was the most appropriate for the situation. But damn, Arthur had barely started to suck and it was good enough that he wanted to curse. Wow.

Letting his head rest against the wall, Alfred watched the collared teen through the slits of his eyelids. He couldn’t keep them open any farther than that, not with the way Arthur was starting to bob his head.

“Fuuuuck,” the bespectacled blond groaned, grip tightening in Arthur’s hair for a moment at the sensation of that tongue stud rubbing against his length. Holy shit, the punk gave good head.

The sound Alfred had just made had Arthur smirking around the object in his mouth. He’d barely gotten started and the athlete was already enjoying it this much? Damn, he was better at this than he’d thought. But then, if Alfred had never had a stud on his cock before, then his reactions should be pretty strong. And oh but Arthur was going to enjoy that to the fullest extent.

Tilting his head, the Brit dragged his tongue up the side of his Master’s erection so that the top ball of his stud slid against it and caught on the ridge of the head to tug just slightly. His fingers were busy rubbing and stroking around Alfred’s base, and a moment later his tongue was occupied with the tip. There was a vein that demanded his attention—he teased it with his stud then nipped at it so Alfred would feel the rings in his lip and won a gasp from the larger male.

“Arthur.” Alfred’s tone was impatient and he tugged at the punk’s hair a little. “Don’t tease.”

Ugh, no fun, but he supposed he would have chance to play around later, so for now Arthur nodded and obediently took the athlete’s length into his mouth again. He sucked, head bobbing slowly as his tongue caressed and rubbed. The taste of what had to be Alfred’s pre-cum joined in with the salty flavor of his skin, surprisingly sweet for a jock, which meant the blue-eyed blond had a sweet tooth.

Cute.

That taste also meant the athlete was starting to get close, so Arthur tilted his head and gently nipped the sensitive flesh in his grip.

“Ah…”

Fingers ran through his hair, threatening to grab and pull at any moment but gentle for now, and mumbled words fell from Alfred’s parted lips as his breathing grew chaotic. Arthur splayed his hands over the larger male’s hips and pushed slightly to hold himself up, shifting his weight to his stomach and spreading his legs until they rested on either side of Alfred’s. It was a slutty way to position himself but he was a pet pleasuring his Master so slutty was exactly what he wanted to be.

“Fuck, Arthur…hng…”

That was Arthur’s cue. Alfred’s voice was strained and his hips were starting to shift under the golden-blond’s body; the athlete was close. Deliberately sloppy, Arthur switched from sucking to licking, letting his spit coat the erection he’d been tending to so diligently. He let it brush against his lips and cheeks and breathed against it so Alfred could feel the heat. His snakebites and stud were used to the fullest extent, trailing against Alfred’s sensitive flesh and rubbing in all the right spots. Without warning, Alfred’s hand fisted in his hair and yanked, forcing the punk to deepthroat his length at the same time as his hips jolted up so that Arthur barely managed to avoid choking.

“Nng…” The slight pain of so suddenly having something in his throat made his eyes water a little. He wanted to protest, but the cock in his mouth prevented that, so he settled for doing what he knew Alfred wanted. His hands were set on the mattress beside his Master’s hips and he breathed carefully through his nose.

Slowly then faster, he moved his head, similarly growing rougher with his tongue and adding in his teeth now as a little bit of payback for what Alfred had just done to him. Sure, he was the pet and Alfred was his Master, and he was supposed to be being punished, but that didn’t mean the athlete could be abusive without Arthur retaliating in some way.

His revenge consisted of catching Alfred’s length between his teeth and dragging them against the sensitive flesh.

“Shit!” Alfred tugged at his hair, head thrown back and eyes closed; his other hand was fisted in the blankets. “Arthur!”

He did it again, this time adding in the feeling of his stud and using it to tease the American’s tip when he reached it. For a moment, he held nothing but the head of Alfred’s erection caught between his lips as he tongued it. Then, just as suddenly as Alfred had yanked his hair before, he relaxed his jaw and throat and took the athlete as deep as he could, humming as he did so.

“Fuck!”

The grip on his hair was so tight it was painful and Alfred’s hips bucked up, forcing Arthur to lift himself or be choked again. Alfred’s spunk filled his mouth and he swallowed it after only a moment’s hesitation, making sure to continue to suck and lick until Alfred finally finished. Slowly, the athlete’s hand relaxed; his body fell limp against the bed and he let out a contented sigh.

Gently, Arthur removed the larger teen’s length from his mouth then licked his lips to gather any traces of spit or pre-cum or spunk. Alfred’s groin was a mess, but that could be dealt with later. For now, he wanted a reward for performing so well.

“Master,” the green-eyed musician dropped kisses up Alfred’s stomach and chest then neck and along the edge of his jaw, stopping at the corner of his mouth, “was that good?” Blue eyes cracked open to look at him and arms wrapped around his waist a moment later, pulling him down to rest on top of the athlete’s body.

“Yeah. That was good.”

Arthur smiled and nuzzled into his Master’s neck, cuddling against the other boy’s broader frame. “Good.”

One of Alfred’s hands slid up his back and started stroking his hair, a gentler touch than he expected. He could feel a heart beating fast beneath ribs and smiled. There was a light coat of sweat on Alfred’s body now, proof of the strain that had been put on him. Arthur didn’t usually cuddle like this, but he was enjoying it too much to stop. The American was warm and comfortable to lie on, so why should he move? They’d get to the next part of their game soon enough, and besides, Alfred clearly needed a moment to recover. Arthur knew perfectly well how exhausting his blow jobs could be, and he’d worked extra hard on Alfred. He’d have been disappointed in himself if the athlete had been ready to continue right away.

He really shouldn’t get too comfortable, though. As much as he liked Alfred, and as attractive as the ash blond was, the chances of this turning out to be more than a one-night-stand were slim. If he got attached, it would spell doom for the rest of his high school career. And what Alfred had said earlier, that Arthur would have to resist the urge to touch himself just at the sight of the athlete after tonight, well, as brilliant as that sounded, he knew he couldn’t let it happen. The best he could do was try to please his almost-lover as much as possible and hope that Alfred wouldn’t get tired of him after just one night. He liked to think he was too interesting to bore anyone, but who knew. It was still best to not get attached.

God, he still hadn’t caught his breath. It hadn’t been a problem for the majority of that, since Arthur had been pretty patient and slow about it, but towards the end there, he hadn’t been able to take in a breath without it leaving him in some form of sound, and that had taken a lot out of him. Not to mention that his heart was hammering in his chest and his entire body felt tingly with leftover pleasure. Damn, that had been good.

And now Arthur was lying on him, snuggled into his chest and practically purring. How adorable was that? For a punk, Arthur was weirdly cute. Alfred hadn’t even done much to him yet and he was obviously happy.

Well, I’ll fix that in a minute. Still have to use all those toys, and show him what happens to teases like him. He won’t be able to walk normally for a week when I’m through with him.

Yeah, that was the plan. Fuck Arthur until the musician couldn’t even remember his own name. Yeah. But for now, he was okay with resting together. He knew he’d been a little harsh a couple of times, and while he didn’t exactly feel bad for any of it, he was aware that his new pet probably needed to recover. Giving head wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world, and Arthur had surprised him by swallowing. That deserved a little bit of a reward, even if it was just a few minutes’ worth of cuddling.

Gently, Alfred ran his fingers through green-tipped hair and marveled at how silky it felt against his skin. His other hand was busy rubbing the small of Arthur’s back, and Alfred absent-mindedly registered the feel of the smaller male’s breath against his collarbone. The warmth of him was more noticeable than the weight—he seemed almost delicate.

It amazed him how soft everything about Arthur was. The punk had piercings and a tattoo, was in a band and didn’t take shit from anyone. But his hair was silky and his skin was smooth and pale and perfect. There would be marks on it soon enough, but for now, the Brit was flawless. Looking at him almost made Alfred wish they could do this more often. Really, who didn’t enjoy being used as a pillow, especially by someone who’d just given him the best blow job of his life? Not that he’d gotten very many, but Arthur was definitely the best, and Alfred was sure it was going to stay that way. Best blow job followed by the best sex he’d ever had.

How am I going to be happy with anyone else after this?

Chapter Text

As cute as Arthur was, and as comfortable as cuddling like this was turning out to be, Alfred decided to give his pet only a couple more minutes of relaxing. It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if he let the punk regain his strength after every little thing, and if he was going to do anything tonight, he was going to punish Arthur. That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? To show the green-eyed blond who was boss.

But for those few moments he had left, he let one hand trail idly down the Brit’s back, and he traced the ripskin with gentle fingers. Arthur was completely relaxed against him, his breathing slow and even, betraying the fact that he was dozing. Heh, he was kind of adorable, for an annoying, arrogant, infuriating little fuck of a tease, anyway.

Alfred let out a content hum and began stroking Arthur’s hair, once again marveling at the silky texture. Seriously, how did he get his hair this soft? Angel tears and pixie dust? Didn’t matter, he supposed. His hair was soft enough. Not as soft as Arthur’s, but soft regardless and he was fine with it. Besides, how very not cool would it be if he asked the punk lying on him what sort of shampoo he used? Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

Had it been those couple of minutes yet? Probably. But he was so comfortable and Arthur was a fantastic blanket and he really didn’t feel like moving.

You’re his Master. Punish the little asshole.

Yeah, yeah, he would. In a minute. He just wanted to enjoy this for a little bit longer. It wasn’t like he was the only one who wanted to stay like this, anyway. Arthur had never been much of a cuddler but all these tanned muscles were surprisingly comfortable to nestle into, and Alfred gave off an incredible amount of body heat. Maybe it was just because the athlete’s pulse was raised, but still, even practically naked the way he was, Arthur wasn’t cold.

He could have stayed like this for hours. All night, even. But Alfred was starting to play with the chain attached to his collar, which meant he was about to be dislodged from the larger teen’s body.

“Arthur.” The hand that had been so nicely petting his hair stilled on the back of his head.

“Mm?” he hummed, almost but not quiet opening one eye to look up at his Master.

Instead of replying, Alfred merely set his hands on the punk’s shoulders and, as quickly and smoothly as he could, rolled them so that Arthur was on his back and Alfred was hovering over him. The look on the bespectacled teen’s face made Arthur’s heart stutter then take off in a thundering sprint. Those blue eyes were darkened by lust and hunger and triumph and he was smirking so widely that a peek of white teeth showed. It was his canine, and it looked like Alfred was about to bite him, devour him. Just the sight made Arthur nervous and excited and—

The smaller male lifted his chin to meet the downward movement of Alfred’s head, their mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Only when he tried to wrap his arms around the other teen’s neck did he realize Alfred was holding his wrists down, and he let out a protesting whine as he struggled. It was a useless thing to do considering how much bigger the other blond was, but he still tried, and his efforts earned a chuckle from his Master.

“You did a good job sucking me off, Arthur,” Alfred whispered, drawing away far enough that their eyes could meet but staying so close that his lips brushed against Arthur’s lip rings as he talked, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish you.”

Another whine sounded in Arthur’s throat but he didn’t argue or fight the blue-eyed male’s hold. This was what he’d been waiting for all evening and he still wasn’t quite over how quickly Alfred was adjusting to his role of Master. God he was bloody sexy when he was being dominant.

Slowly, the Brit licked his lower lip—and Alfred’s in the process—then nodded obediently. “Yes, Master.”

“Good boy.” Alfred smiled and sat up, lifting Arthur’s wrists as he did, and casually looped the loose end of the handcuffs around one of the bars of the headboard. Convenient that the punk had this style of bed, but Alfred would have been willing to bet money that the golden blond did that on purpose.

The cuff was soon occupied by Arthur’s other wrist, and then the punk was helpless to escape as Alfred’s gaze trailed down his body. With his arms up over his head like that, it made the green-eyed teen’s body look even slimmer than normal. And damn, how did anyone stay this pale? Didn’t Arthur ever go outside? Even his nipples were the lightest shade of pink Alfred had ever…

Blue eyes widened for a split second before a grin took over the athlete’s features. “You didn’t tell me about this, Artemis.” With one finger, Alfred gently teased the silver ring pierced through the punk’s left nipple. It was small, so he wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t noticed it before, but with Arthur laid out like this for him to touch and taste and examine, it was hard to miss.

When the smaller teen remained silent, Alfred lifted his gaze to Arthur’s face and smirked at the embarrassed pink tinge in the musician’s cheeks. “What is it, my pet? Were you trying to keep secrets from your Master?”

Arthur shook his head fervently, teeth digging into the inside of his lower lip. Hooooly shit Alfred was starting to roll the ring around and hnnnng fuck! Nipples were a sensitive bit of anatomy anyway but piercings only made them that much easier to tease and the little spikes of pleasure Alfred was sending through his body made Arthur want to whimper. Did the athlete even realize what he was doing? Did he understand how sensitive piercings could be? Obviously not.

Even though Arthur didn’t make a sound, he couldn’t help his body’s reactions. He felt warm and tingly and having nothing touched but that one spot was going to drive him mad. In moments, his breathing was uneven and he knew he was flushing redder by the second, knew he wasn’t keeping his expression smooth anymore.

“You’re trembling, Arthur. Does it really feel that good?” Alfred traced a lazy circle around his prisoner’s nipple, watching the shiver that ran through Arthur’s body. Damn that was sexy. “Don’t keep it to yourself if I’m making you feel good. You know I like to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“It f-feels good.” Arthur was breathless in an obviously needy way that made Alfred grin.

“Good.” Taking his hand away, the athlete leaned over his pet again and held his mouth just above the pierced nub. He let out a slow, hot breath that had Arthur arching away from the mattress and whimpering so softly that Alfred almost didn’t hear it. But he did, and it was all the encouragement he needed to slip his tongue out and ever so gently brush it against the ring and connected flesh.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Arthur shifted against the blankets and fisted his hands over his head. Fucking git. He hated being teased so much and yet here he was, teasing as if he’d been born to do it! The insufferable wanker.

“Hnn…” He couldn’t help the sound that left him when Alfred’s mouth latched onto his chest. It was all heat and wetness and ooohhhhh hell he was sucking on it! “Sh-shit…Alfred…hah…”

Teeth caught the sensitive flesh, making Arthur’s breath stop in his throat. Slowly, Alfred lifted his head so that his teeth dragged and snagged on the ring to make Arthur gasp. Only when the metal slipped from his mouth did he look up at Arthur’s flushed face. He was panting lightly and his eyes were closed—it was a sexy expression, but Alfred put that thought aside. There was something more important for him to address.

“Arthur.” His tone was firm and decidedly displeased.

Slowly, the Brit stilled, and he seemed to realize that he was in trouble because he tried to sink into the pillows as if that would hide him. When he opened his eyes, he kept them lowered in submission. “Yes?” he answered softly, timid.

“What did you call me?”

Shit. Fuck. He was such an arse. How could he make such a stupid mistake?

“Alfred.” He was even quieter now, mentally berating himself as Alfred looked down at him with surprisingly cold eyes.

“Yeah.” The athlete reached out and firmly gripped Arthur’s chin, forcing the green-eyed blond to meet his gaze. “But what are you supposed to call me?”

His heart was in his throat and Arthur had never been so nervous in his life. The plan had already been to punish him, but now he wasn’t sure what Alfred was going to do to him. “Master…”

“Exactly. So, what should we do about this, Arthur?”

Arthur wanted to look away from those eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to break the eye contact. What if it just made Alfred mad? He didn’t think he’d survive any worse punishment than he’d already been expecting. “I…I don’t know…”

“No?” There was patronizing curiosity in the larger male’s tone, and Arthur shook his head as much as he could with Alfred still holding his chin. Alfred sighed then, and used his thumb to caress the rings in his pet’s lip. “Well, I do.”

The way Alfred was looking at him made Arthur want to curl up and protect his sensitive bits. This was not going to be good. It was probably going to be fantastic and sexy as hell and leave him twitching, but it was not going to be good.

Suspicious and hesitant and nervous, he watched the athlete stand and fix his jeans so they were hanging loose around his hips again—damn it, why didn’t he just take the bloody things off?—then move to stand in front of the desk. It was silent in the bedroom as Arthur watched Alfred look at the toys he’d set out so neatly. Which ones would the bespectacled teen choose? How would he make the punishment worse? Just the anticipation was killing him. Somehow, Arthur was handcuffed to his bed and horny as all hell and, for some reason, no one was fucking him! If he hadn’t known better, he’d have started begging Alfred to hurry up, he’d have keened and whined and simpered about how needy he was, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t get him anywhere. This was a punishment. If he begged now, it would only convince Alfred to take his sweet time, and that was not at all what Arthur wanted. So he waited, and tried to guess which toys the athlete was looking at even though he couldn’t see all that much from here. He could hear things being moved, could see Alfred picking things up and looking at them but couldn’t tell what was being looked at.

Hurry the fuck up.

God, his dick was starting to hurt. He’d been hard far too long to be left like this. And hadn’t he earned a little indulgence? Hadn’t he been so nice and sweet about sucking Alfred’s cock like a good pet should? So why, on top of everything else that was going to happen to him tonight, was he being made to wait for a bloody eternity while Alfred apparently read the entire user’s manual for every toy on the desk?!

The sense of frustration in the room was mounting and Alfred was glad his back was to the other teen. At least this way, Arthur couldn’t see that he was smirking. Before he’d even gotten off the bed, he’d known which toys he wanted in order to punish Arthur for calling him by name instead of referring to him as Master. This waiting was just to torment the pierced teen, to make him learn some patience, to know what it was like to have the thing he wanted so badly to be so close and yet not be able to do anything about it. He was going to know, in some small way, how awful it had been for Alfred all those months of teasing.

So he waited another thirty seconds or so before picking up a silky piece of black fabric and turning back towards the bed. Arthur was looking at him, brow furrowed in obvious impatience. The flush had left his face and his breathing had returned to normal, though Alfred knew it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. Not with what he had planned for that perfect pierced body.

But his expression was cold and controlled as he crossed the few feet between the desk and the bed, and he leaned over Arthur to meet the Brit’s gaze.

“Are you ready to begin, Artemis?” He could tell from the way those green eyes almost glared back at him that Arthur wanted to say no, but there was no way the punk would actually refuse. Not with the tent he was pitching in that thong of his. One of his eyebrows lifted in an expectant way. “Well?”

Holding back an annoyed huff, Arthur lowered his gaze and nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good boy.” Gently but firmly, Alfred tied the fabric he’d chosen around Arthur’s head, covering his eyes so that the punk wouldn’t be able to see. “Can’t have you knowing what’s coming, can we?” he teased, moving onto the bed again and positioning himself over his pet.

“…no, Master…”

“Hm.” Alfred smiled and began dropping kisses on the pale skin of Arthur’s throat. They were soft, for now, little more than his lips brushing against flesh, but they were enough to make the smaller teen shift on the bed and tilt his head to expose more of that beautiful neck. His pet was so well-behaved. Still, it was only another few seconds before he shifted up and bit the spot at the corner of the Brit’s jaw, catching the pale skin between his teeth and sucking on it to make sure it would leave a dark bruise.

The bite made Arthur gasp softly and he arched off the bed, fingers curled into loose fists. Not being able to see anything was all very exciting, but he hadn’t quite made up his mind about it just yet. Usually, his partners were blindfolded, not him. This was…exhilarating, to have to rely on his other senses to even begin to guess at what his Master might do next. His only clues were the heat of Alfred’s body so close to his own but not quite touching, the way the mattress dipped where the larger teen’s knees and hands were braced, and that mouth on his neck, the heat of Alfred’s breath and tongue focused on that one spot. It was going to leave a fantastic hickey.

“Master,” he sighed, letting his mouth hang open as his breathing began to quicken.

Alfred didn’t reply, merely licked the mark he’d made then moved down to kiss along Arthur’s collarbone. It was after he’d gone back and forth along the smooth curve of it a few times that he decided he wanted to place his next mark at the hollow of the green-eyed blond’s throat. While his mouth was busy with that, he stroked a hand down Arthur’s front until he encountered the soft fabric of his thong. Arthur’s hips lifted eagerly, making the American smirk, and he gently cupped the smaller teen’s groin. That was all he did, though, and Arthur made a frustrated sound as he pushed his hips up in search of pressure or friction.

What the hell was he doing?! The blindfold and the hickeys were enough to get him all hot and bothered but now with the hand? Just sitting there! Maddeningly! The only reason Arthur hadn’t snapped at the larger blond to get a fucking move on was because he was biting his lip so hard just to keep his sounds back. This was obviously part of his punishment and just because he was a pet didn’t mean he was going to make it easy. So he held back the voice he knew Alfred wanted to hear, and he did his best not to tremble, but the jock had moved down to lick and suck at his ringless nipple and he was having trouble not arching. It was so much heat to have in one spot, and Alfred’s hand was warm even though it still hadn’t moved. But…mmm…if he rolled his hips just right, he could get a little bit of friction.

The sound of Alfred’s breathy chuckle reached his ears and he paused to listen, but the bespectacled teen didn’t say anything, so he set his jaw and lifted his hips to continue his semi-pathetic humping of his Master’s motionless hand. He could feel breath against the skin of his stomach and knew that Alfred was hovering there, just waiting, though he had no idea what for. Slowly, his hips stilled and he let go of his lip. His curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Master? What’re you—ah!” A sharp pain laced with pleasure shot through him when teeth dug into his abdomen, just below his rib cage, and he arched before he could stop himself. “Master!” He could feel Alfred sucking on the spot and realized too late that he’d been played. Alfred had purposefully waited for him to drop his guard.

Bastard.

Nnng but he couldn’t keep quiet now that he’d let out one sound. Not that he was very loud. This wasn’t enough to get much out of him, just little gasps and breathy moans. Still, though, Alfred’s hand was on him, just resting against his trapped erection as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

Another hickey was created on the sharp edge of his hip bone and he shifted against the mattress, twisting slightly in what could only have looked like encouragement. It sort of was, but it was an instinctive reaction more than anything. Arthur was still too determined to be stubborn to deliberately get Alfred to continue. That was a simple matter of pride—he’d have been pissed if the American decided to stop.

The git probably looked so sexy right now. His hair was mussed from before, and Arthur wished he could look down and see those blue eyes looking back at him as Alfred licked and sucked at his hip. God, he wanted to see that. But all he had was the blackness of the blindfold, and that was frustrating enough that when Alfred finished the hickey and licked it, Arthur lifted his hips as a soft whine left his throat.

Alfred chuckled. “Impatient?”

With a small nod, Arthur shifted against the mattress again and spread his legs a little. “Please, Master,” he whispered, “I want you.”

The hand on his groin gave a nearly imperceptible squeeze and Arthur stiffened with a quiet moan.

“I know.”

Then the hand was gone, and the mattress dipped as Alfred moved backwards until he was comfortably settled between the punk’s legs, spread open for him in welcome. Arthur’s thighs were beautifully pale, and he wasted no time in worshipping them. He caressed, let his fingers trail over them and squeezed at the more sensitive flesh on the insides, and kissed until Arthur was trembling. But the Brit hadn’t made a sound, so Alfred lifted one of his legs and gently bit Arthur’s inner thigh—a whimper was his reward. He sucked lightly to leave just a small mark high up near the green-eyed musician’s groin. A small mark, but a definite claim on his pet’s body.

Mine.

After licking the spot, he lowered Arthur’s leg again and focused on the one part of his soon-to-be-lover’s body that he hadn’t seen yet. He wanted to see, and taste and touch and tease, but he wasn’t ready to remove that thong yet. Not just yet. Not when he could still drive Arthur mad with it on.

Glancing up, the athlete was pleased to find that Arthur’s face was a dark shade of red, and his chest was moving rapidly as he breathed. The hickeys he’d left on his journey southward stood out so well against the punk’s paleness that Alfred couldn’t help but smirk. This might be a one-time thing, but Arthur wasn’t going to forget about him in a hurry. Those hickeys would last for days.

More than a little satisfied with his work so far, Alfred turned his attention to Arthur’s groin again and slowly ran a hand up each smooth thigh. Arthur shivered at his touch, an encouraging reaction, and it was all Alfred needed to duck down and begin the first real stage of this punishment.

Chapter Text

“Aaah! Nnn….f-fuck…Master…!” Arthur couldn’t help how desperate he sounded, or how loud he was being. Not with the way Alfred was mouthing his cloth-covered prick. Even through his thong he could feel the heat of the larger blond’s breath and the wetness of his tongue. If the fabric wasn’t already soaked, it soon would be from the way Al kept licking and sucking at it.

The chain to his handcuffs rattled as Arthur lifted his arms, trying to reach down and hold onto Alfred’s hair. His knees drew up so that his thighs framed the American’s face; it would probably have been sexy to see if not for the blindfold.

“J-Jesus Christ…” Toes curling, the Brit tried to lift his hips only to feel hands grip his thighs and shove them open as far as they would go. The sudden stretch in the muscles around his groin made him gasp, and he was quick to struggle against Alfred’s hold. “Master!” he whined when he wasn’t released, pulling against the cuffs again. “That hurts!”

As soon as he said it, the mouth on his groin stilled, and Alfred gently released his thighs. Relief at not being stretched made Arthur sigh and he slowly brought his knees back up as he tried to catch his breath.

Lips brushed against his hip. “Sorry.”

The apology made Arthur smile a little. “It’s okay. I’m just not that flexible.”

“Still sexy, though.”

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh, albeit breathlessly. “Good.”

“Ready to keep going?”

Smile still in place, the smaller male shifted against the blankets then nodded. “Go ahead.” He felt the mattress dip as Alfred moved, and rough-palmed hands slid down his sides seconds later.

“We’re not stopping until you beg, my pet,” the bespectacled blond purred, hands settling on Arthur’s waist. “Not until I think you’re really sorry for your mistake.”

Choosing not to reply, Arthur focused instead on the light puffs of breath against his hip. He knew Alfred was going to bite him. The git was probably just waiting for him to get impatient like last time.

Any second now.

Not much longer.

Any second.

A frustrated growl escaped the Englishman. “I know you’re—fuck!” His stomach arched into the air and his eyes went wide behind the blindfold. “A—Master!”

Hearing the catch made Alfred smirk even as he bit down just a little harder. Arthur had almost called him by name again, which was definitely not allowed even if it was ridiculously sexy. For a reward, he started to rub and squeeze the soft flesh beneath his hands as he sucked at the spot he’d bitten. It was going to turn into a hickey, just like he wanted, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Slowly, as Arthur trembled below him and Alfred continued to massage the punk’s sides just below his ribs, the blue-eyed blond gentled his bite until the darkening flesh slipped from between his teeth. He licked lazily, adding to the claim he’d just made on the other boy’s body.

“Master,” Arthur breathed, for once not struggling against his restraints.

“Hm?” The jock began leaving open-mouthed kisses on Arthur’s hips and thighs, his breath hot against the smaller male’s skin.

Bloody hell that was sexy.

“I…um…kiss?” he asked, voice small and shy. He lifted his head, looking down at where he knew the other teen was and smiling winsomely. “Please?”

“Well,” Alfred purred, crawling up his pet’s body, “since you asked so nicely.” Grinning, he leaned down to put his mouth barely half an inch from Arthur’s then stopped, waiting. For several seconds, Arthur waited to be kissed, then whined in the back of his throat and reached forward. But the breath he’d felt against his lips vanished and he encountered nothing but empty air.

“Master,” the punk pouted, only to inhale sharply through his nose and tilt his head to the side at the touch of lips on the side of his neck.

“Hush. I said I’d kiss you. I didn’t say where.”

The breaths caressing his neck made Arthur want to shiver, but he resisted and fixed his pout in place once more. “Master knows what I meant.”

“Yes.” Another kiss, this one on the other side of the Brit’s neck. It felt nice, but it wasn’t what he wanted, which was exactly why Alfred was doing it. The git was teasing him.

Rather than let his impatience get the better of him, though, and ignoring the uncomfortably wet fabric that was trapping his dick, Arthur poked his bottom lip out and tucked his chin to his collarbone, shielding his neck from any more kisses his Master might be about to put there. “Was I too bad to get kisses, Master?”

Alfred pulled back enough to look at his captive’s face, amused by this new tactic. It was cute, he had to admit, and he was pretty tempted to give in and kiss the smaller blond. Too bad for Arthur that he wasn’t about to give up any of the power he’d been enjoying so far.

“Yeah,” he whispered, after he thought he’d let the punk wait long enough for an answer, “you’ve been so bad that I should just leave you here like this. You don’t even deserve the pleasure I was going to give you.”

That took the wind out of Arthur’s sails.

“You wouldn’t,” the tattooed musician responded after a moment, though he didn’t sound very sure about it. “Master wouldn’t be so cruel.”

“I might be.”

Before he could stop himself, Arthur whimpered and shifted against the bed nervously. “Don’t. Please don’t,” he begged softly, sounding exactly as scared and needy as he was. It would be the worst thing possible for Alfred to do to him, just leave him chained up and horny with his thong soaked in the athlete’s spit from that torturous fuck of a blowjob. Part of him knew, of course, that the taller blond would never actually do it. Alfred wanted to shag him and wouldn’t pass up this chance, but the threat was enough to subdue him. As Alfred sat and watched him, the punk clenched and unclenched his fists and chewed on his lip, the rings catching on his teeth. “Don’t,” he said again, wishing he could see the other boy so that he could know for sure how serious Alfred was. “Master, please.” His voice cracked, and a hand cupped his cheek a second later.

“Shhh, baby,” Alfred crooned, stroking Arthur’s cheek with his thumb, “I’m not gonna leave you.”

Relief was slow to replace the irrational fear. “….really?”

“Really. I just wanted to make sure you appreciate what I’m doing for you.”

Arthur nodded eagerly and pressed his face against Alfred’s hand. “Yes, Master, I do. I do.”

Chuckling, Alfred held the smaller boy’s head still so he could lean down and kiss him. “Good.”

As soon as he felt lips against his own, Arthur pushed himself up off the mattress as far as he could and parted his lips in invitation, head tilting to increase the contact. This was what he’d wanted in the first place, just a kiss, and he’d definitely earned it. He was just disappointed when Alfred pulled away without having deepened it or biting his lip or anything.

“Is Master going to continue my punishment?”

Before he answered, Alfred moved back to kneel between his pet’s legs and lightly ran his hands up Arthur’s thighs. They were so soft, so warm and supple and just begging to have all of his attention for a little while. So, by way of saying yes, he lifted one of the punk’s legs and licked along Arthur’s inner thigh. The action earned a quiet gasp and his grip was tested weakly before the shorter blond gave up trying to pull his leg free. That made Al grin before he squeezed a little and bit the place where he’d just licked. Lightly, while he sucked and licked. He wanted to leave a mark, but not a bruise. Nothing that would diminish the perfection that was his pet.

When he was satisfied with his work, he lowered Arthur’s leg then returned his attention to the task at hand. It was time to torment Arthur until the little bastard begged for him.

The short reprieve did nothing but make Arthur nervous. What was Alfred waiting for? He’d just put a hickey on the punk’s thigh, and Arthur knew the other boy hadn’t gotten off the bed. Alfred’s weight was still settled between his legs. So why hadn’t he done anything else?

“Master?” he eventually spoke up timidly, shifting his legs a bit. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Hands stroked up his thighs again then stopped on his hips, holding them down. “I was just admiring how pretty you look, all hot and eager for me, chained up and spread open.” Alfred’s tone dropped into a husky whisper as he spoke, and the combination of that with what he’d said had Arthur blushing and looking away.

Pretty? Alfred thought he was pretty?

“Ah…um…thank you…” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“You’re welcome.”

Without warning, pressure was added to the hold on Arthur’s hips and he gasped half a second later when the same wet heat that had tormented him earlier returned to his groin.

“M…Maaaster!” he called out, stomach arching in an attempt to lift his hips. “Aaah!” Already he was breathless and trembling, muscles straining against the cuffs and Alfred’s hold on his hips. God he wanted to buck. If he hadn’t been pinned, he’d have been writhing, fingers tangled in Alfred’s hair, hips rolling and twitching. But he couldn’t do any of that, and he wasn’t even sure that was a bad thing. He rather liked being held down.

“Ooohhh my god…!”

Smirking, Alfred repeated the action of dragging his tongue over the stiff shape of Arthur’s cock. He watched the way the punk shuddered, and noted with amusement that Arthur was digging his nails into his palms. The golden blond had also tried to pull his knees up again, but Al’s arms were in the way so he couldn’t.

This was too much fun. He could easily have watched Arthur squirm for hours on end. But he wanted so much more than just that.

As if he’d decided to give the punk a break, Alfred left a gentle lick on the lump beneath Arthur’s thong before pulling away slightly; his thumbs caressed sharply defined hip bones. Slowly, Arthur relaxed against the bed and let out a shaky breath. He was trembling and flushed and panting—the absolute picture of need.

Perfect.

Alfred hummed quietly as he used one hand to tug at the black fabric, pulling it to the side until Arthur was exposed. The punk was biting his lip and holding his breath in anticipation. It would have been easy to just take the thong off, but it wouldn’t have been as kinky that way. Besides, the contrast of black fabric against Arthur’s milky flesh was just short of mesmerizing. And the way his cock looked, forced off to the side by the thong that still trapped Arthur’s balls? Sexy. Fucking sexy.

Just the sight made Alfred’s mouth water. It made him impatient to have the smaller teen. He wanted to skip all this toying and teasing and get to the good part, but no way was he going to do that. Arthur wouldn’t like it, and he definitely didn’t want to disappoint the person he was supposed to be pleasuring.

Besides, a good Master would never skip his pet’s punishment.

So Alfred left the thong where it was and slid his hands around to cup Arthur’s ass. It was warm and plush, fitting so perfectly into his hands that he just had to give it a squeeze. Arthur whimpered at that, knees pulling up until they encountered the obstacle of Al’s arms again.

With a chuckle, the jock lightly blew on his prisoner’s length, blue eyes hooded. The coolness made Arthur’s hips twitch a little and his cock bobbed enticingly.

“Such a cute pet,” Alfred purred, lifting the smaller blond’s hips and leaning down at the same time. He didn’t take Arthur into his mouth—that would have been too nice—instead running his lips up the side of the punk’s length as he let out a slow, hot breath.

“Nnn…Master is…very good at that,” Arthur forced out, tense all over again. Even though he wasn’t going to admit it just yet, these simple touches were nearly enough to make him cum. It wouldn’t take much more.

He didn’t receive a reply, but that was understandable. His Master’s mouth was busy, after all, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything else anyway. Not with the way Alfred had started to lick and suck at him without actually swallowing him. And those hands, rubbing and kneading and squeezing his arse to add to the aches of pleasure in the pit of his stomach.

No, he wouldn’t have been able to talk, not when he couldn’t even breathe without moaning.

“Haah…Master…I…” Pulling against the cuffs, Arthur struggled to sit up even though his feet were barely touching the blankets. A warning nip to the underside of his length made him freeze and he bit his lip, hands curling into fists.

The licking started again, Alfred’s tongue hot and teasing as it dragged and rubbed. He sucked, latching his mouth onto Arthur’s still semi-trapped cock, and listened to the whimper-like moan that escaped the punk. Rattling sounds told him that Arthur was fighting his restraints again, but he let it go this time and stayed focused on his task.

Shit shit shit he was close. Oh god. Where had Alfred learned to do this? It was horrid and teasing and so wickedly good that Arthur was squirming against the blankets. His eyes were screwed shut behind his blindfold, jaw clenched as he breathed heavily through his nose. Why hadn’t the git taken him yet? His fingers were already digging into Arthur’s backside. It wouldn’t take much for them to be three knuckles deep in the Brit’s body. Or at least he could get a proper sucking off! But no, the athlete was too busy treating him like some damned lollipop!

Jerking against the cuffs so hard that it would leave bruises on his wrists, Arthur put all of his strength into thrusting his hips upwards. “Master!” The word left him in a frustrated shout, revealing how very desperate he was. As he relaxed again and began to fall back, Alfred’s hands vanished from his backside. He landed on the mattress, bouncing slightly, and whined to realize that he was no longer being touched in any way.

The golden blond hesitated before daring to speak. “Master…?” he asked timidly, aware that he must have done something wrong if Alfred had stopped touching him. “Master?”

“You don’t get to cum yet.”

Hands grabbed his hips and flipped him onto his stomach so quickly that Arthur couldn’t do anything more than gasp in surprise. They yanked before he could gather his thoughts, forcing his ass into the air, and he instinctively pulled his knees under himself to support his own weight and relieve some of the discomfort he felt from that strong grip. It was only then that he realized what Alfred had done to him.

He posed me like a slut! A horny bitch! A cat in heat!

“Adorable.”

Arthur tensed.

Smack!

“Aah!” the punk cried out, shoulders hunching as his entire frame jolted forward. His ass stung where it’d been slapped and he began to tremble all over. That had been one hell of a hit.

“Go on, Arthur.”

Smack!

“Fuck!” Tears began to gather behind his eyes.

“Tell me what you want.”

Another slap had Arthur biting his lip so hard he was surprised he didn’t taste blood. “Hnng!”

“And be specific. I wanna know exactly how my naughty little pet wants me to punish him.” Gently, Alfred cupped the smaller male’s reddening cheek and stroked it with his thumb. The skin radiated heat and was undoubtedly sensitive, so he wasn’t surprised to hear his pet whimper even though he was being careful not to press too hard. “Hmmm? Come on,” leaning down, he kissed the edge of Arthur’s still-forming bruise, “tell me what you want, pretty pet.”

Too out of breath to respond right away, Arthur let his neck and arms go limp. His fingers shook just slightly against the pillows, and his thighs were trembling with the effort of holding his hips up the way Alfred wanted. Such a sharp curve in his spine was uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare complain. It wouldn’t have done him any good. And then there was the pain in his ass, centered in his right cheek where his Master had spanked him, hard and good. Hot, delicious pain, and the tiny pricks that came with Alfred’s caresses. His Master was so good to him.

A shudder went up Arthur’s spine when he felt a tongue drag over the swollen portion of his cheek. “Mmm….Master…”

“Well, Arthur? Are you going to tell me what you want?”

The golden blond took a few more moments to catch his breath before smiling vaguely. “I want Master.”

“And you’ll have me, but not just yet. First,” Alfred positioned himself above the smaller male, leaning down to put his mouth by Arthur’s ear, and lowered his voice into a purr, “first, I’m going to make you beg for me. You’re going to squirm and scream until you lose your voice.” Grinning, he pressed his cloth-covered groin against Arthur’s ass and ground slightly. The denim of his jeans chaffed against the handprints he’d left, making the Brit whine softly and shift his knees against the blankets. “Doesn’t that sound nice, Arthur? Hm?”

Shifting so that his cheek was pressed against the pillow, Arthur grinned over his shoulder. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Stay.” Alfred patted Arthur’s ass lightly, just enough to smart a little, then stood. There were a couple other toys he was going to need to continue, but he took his time in going over to the desk and picking them. The straps were a must, so he draped those over his forearm before turning his attention to the collection of cock rings Arthur had amassed. Various sizes and colors greeted him, some with extra bits that would hang underneath and swing as the wearer moved—he could only imagine how that would feel. But he didn’t have the patience for trying out something like that, so he picked one of the more average-looking rings.

His attention went to the dildos next, which he looked over until he found one that was about the same length as himself, but not as thick around. It would stretch Arthur nicely. And, of course, he was going to need some lube, otherwise his pet’s sexy little ass wouldn’t want him at all. Those oils looked interesting, too. Well, there was no harm in using more than one, so he picked a bottle of scented oil as well as one of lube that’s label claimed to be sensation-enhancing.

Perfect.

He would definitely get good use out of what he’d picked, though he took another moment to look over the remaining toys. With some consideration, he chose a cloth gag as well as a vibrator that was a bit larger than himself. They weren’t to be used right away, but they’d come in handy later.

When he turned around, Alfred was rather pleased to see that his pet hadn’t moved an inch.

“Good boy,” the bespectacled teen crooned, going back to the bed and resuming his place behind Arthur. He set the toys he’d chosen aside and ran a hand up the punk’s spine, smiling as Arthur arched into the touch. “You’re good at following orders.”

“Master taught me well.”

“Yeah.” His hand stroked back down to trace the odd-shaped red patch on the green-eyed blond’s ass. “Are you ready for your next toy?”

Arthur nodded, letting his knees slide a little farther apart in preparation. He was pretty sure what was coming, and he was looking forward to it.

Sure enough, it was only a few seconds before Alfred’s hand brushed against his inner thigh, and he felt one of his rings slipping into place around the base of his cock. It was a snug fit but not overly tight, which meant Alfred had decided to be nice about which one he used. This one would keep him from climaxing, but it would still let him feel good.

“Mm…Master is kind,” he commented, smiling, and heard Alfred chuckle in response.

“You’re not gonna think that for much longer.”

Despite what Alfred said, Arthur kept his smile in place as he wiggled his hips slightly. “If Master says so.”

Amused, the American watched those enticing hips for a moment before lifting a hand and striking Arthur’s left cheek instead of his right. “Don’t tease.”

“Nnn….! Y-yes, Master.”

“Good boy.” His hand massaging his captive’s ever-reddening backside, Alfred leaned over the smaller male again and bit Arthur’s ear, sucking lightly. It wasn’t enough to get more than a breathy moan out of the punk, but he meant to start out easy and work his way up to the real punishment. “You know what I’m going to do, right, Arthur?” The athlete let his pet’s ear slip from between his teeth so he could lick the punk’s cheek. “I’m going to tease you just like you did to me, but revenge only works if it’s ten-fold, you know.”

The hand on his ass squeezed gently then vanished, and Arthur was left to wonder what would come next as Alfred’s weight shifted behind him. That shift meant that the athlete’s jeans rubbed again, making the smaller blond moan softly, and he gasped a second later when the hand reappeared—fingers wrapped around his length and gripped firmly, Alfred’s thumb rubbing the lip of his head.

“Mmm….Master…!” Unable to help himself, Arthur curled his hips forward in an attempt to increase the sensations running from his groin into his stomach. God he felt hot. He was still so close, and Alfred knew it, thus the ring. Trust that git to get him right to the edge of his release then take it away, dangle it in front of him like a treat for a dog.

Alfred’s tongue dragged over his spine, between his shoulder blades and up the back of his neck. “Nng…” With a shudder, Arthur hunched his shoulders up to his ears and arched his back a little. The action put a little space between his ass and the athlete’s hips, relieving the chafing caused by Al’s jeans.

Roughly, the blue-eyed blond yanked Arthur’s hips back and up again, hand tightening on his cock as the punk whimpered. “No.”

“Then take me,” Arthur all but pleaded, voice strained, “I know you want to. I can feel it.” To make his point, he pressed his ass back against the larger teen’s groin and rubbed just slightly at the lump he could feel behind those jeans.

“Mm…true, but no dice.”

A frown took over Arthur’s expression. “Why not?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The athlete licked the back of his neck again, but Arthur was already pouting.

If he didn’t get what he wanted, then neither would Alfred.

Setting his jaw, the golden blond shoved his knees back until he was lying flat on his stomach, Alfred’s hand trapped under him, still holding onto his length.

“Arthur,” the athlete warned, shifting his hand to get a better grip.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound, but the sensation passed after a couple seconds, and Arthur huffed in annoyance. “Whatever.”

Well, Alfred wasn’t going to stand for that sort of disobedience.

Swiftly, he pulled his hand out from under the smaller male and grabbed his hips again, pulling them up and shoving his knee between the punk’s thighs to keep him that way. “Keep them up, or I’ll leave you like this.”

Huffing again to cover up the quiet whine that had built in his throat at his surprise of being pulled up again, Arthur nodded mulishly. It was almost embarrassing to straddle the other teen’s leg like this, his ass up and ringed cock resting against a denim-covered thigh. Oh, but like this, he could…

Arthur braced his knees and arched his back, grinding his hips down and forward to rub himself against Alfred’s leg. The friction dragged a moan out of him and his fingers curled into his pillow, cheeks flushing just a little darker than they’d been for the past several minutes. That felt bloody amazing.

So he did it again, faster this time, and he brought his hips lower to press a little harder against Alfred’s thigh.

“Nng…”

Even better.

Too aroused to care anymore, Arthur abandoned his pride and pushed against the bed to give himself better leverage. His grinding continued, gaining speed until he was practically humping Alfred’s thigh. It felt good to the point that he was panting into his pillow and even drooling a little bit, too.

“Hah…ah…M-Master…nn…”

The hands on his hips only made this that much better. Having Alfred watch him do this, feeling the athlete rub and squeeze in encouragement, was arousing all on its own. If it hadn’t been for the ring, he’d have climaxed by now.

And then, suddenly, Alfred was stopping him rather than helping him. Arthur struggled against his Master’s superior strength for several moments before whining loudly.

“Master!”

“Just wait a moment, my sexy little slut.” Thumbs brushed over the reddened skin of his ass, stinging ever so slightly. “You can keep going after I give you your next toy.”

Next toy?

Almost nervous, the punk slowly relaxed against his Master’s leg. “What toy, Master?”

“One that I know you’re going to like.” Grinning at what he was about to do, Alfred released his pet’s hips and reached behind himself to where he’d left the other toys. The first bottle he grabbed was the oil—perfect. He popped the cap and poured some onto his hand, enough to form a small puddle in the middle of his palm. It was shiny, an opaque white that looked more like cum than he would ever say out loud. The smell was strong, too—peppermint.

Ooh, was this where Arthur’s skin got its minty scent?

“Smells good. Bet it’ll taste good, too,” he commented, rubbing bit of the oil onto his finger. He could feel the anticipation radiating from Arthur and smiled crookedly as he looked at the bruised ass being presented to him. His handprints looked great on that pale skin.

He’s all mine.

Smug, the athlete trailed his oil-slicked finger from the base of Arthur’s spine downward along the crack in his backside. As much as he wanted to stop at the puckered ring of muscles, he continued past it and stroked between Arthur’s legs until he encountered the smaller blond’s testes. He considered toying with them, just to torment his pet a little, but he decided against it and trailed his finger back up again. Once he’d reached the top again, he rubbed the remaining oil over both his palms then started rubbing it against Arthur’s rear.

Arthur had smelled the mint as soon as Alfred started messing with it, so he’d known it was his favorite oil. Having it put on his ass was nothing new, but when it started to soak into his spank-sore skin, first it was almost numbingly cold, and then it started to burn the way ice does. It wasn’t quite painful, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable, either. “Nnn…s-stings…”

“I know.”

He kept rubbing until all of the oil had been absorbed into his hands and Arthur’s ass. The smell of mint was almost overwhelming, but he kind of liked it. It was Arthur’s smell, and he was more than willing to surround himself with everything the punk was.

With a smile, the athlete pushed his pet’s hips up and leaned forward to kiss the sharp-smelling skin of his backside. Mint filled his nose and his lungs, making it all feel open and clean.

“Such a good pet,” he murmured, lips brushing against Arthur’s skin, then kissed his way over to lick the smaller male’s entrance. The muscles under his hands tensed and he heard Arthur gasp as he shuddered.

“D-don’t,” the blindfolded teen whimpered, his tone embarrassed, but he didn’t struggle or try to pull away.

Alfred smiled and kissed the handprints he’d left earlier before nuzzling his pretty pet’s right cheek. “It’s okay. You taste good.”

“Ah…but…” Arthur hesitated, shifting his weight against Alfred’s leg. He wished he could look back at the other teen, but at the same time he was glad Alfred couldn’t see his eyes. It would have given him away.

“What’s the matter, my little pet?” Alfred rested his chin on the smaller blond’s lower back and looked towards his face. Flushed cheeks and a swollen bottom lip greeted him, along with the black fabric of the blindfold. “You look sexy like this, you know.”

Whimpering, Arthur turned and hid his face in his arm, hips shifting in a weak attempt at pulling away. “Please don’t.”

“Artie…” Grip firm but gentle, Alfred held the other blond still until he felt Arthur relax again. Obviously, the golden blond didn’t want him to do that, so even though he wanted to, he wouldn’t. It was a little disappointing, but not a huge loss. There were other things to try, anyway. “I won’t. But be a good boy and hold still, all right?”

Silence followed his words, lasting nearly a minute before Arthur nodded, his face still hidden.

“Good.” His curiosity was exploding to know why Arthur was so against being rimmed. If he’d never done it before, then it’d be understandable. Most people were pretty nervous about trying stuff like that, but he’d assumed Arthur had tried just about everything, considering the number of toys he had. Still, he wouldn’t push it. He could always ask later. For now, he had a pet to punish.

The bottle of oil was put back at the foot of the bed and Alfred picked up the lube instead, as well as the dildo he’d chosen. Slowly, he released Arthur and allowed him to relax again.

“Catch your breath,” he instructed, opening the lube bottle and squeezing some of it out onto his hand. Unlike the oil, this was a thick gel of an interesting blue-green color that he wasn’t sure if he liked or not. It didn’t have a scent, which was good because he didn’t want anything tainting that wonderful minty smell.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully to himself as he rubbed it onto the dildo. This was something he’d never done before. Lube was nothing new, of course, but using a dildo on someone was going to be interesting.

That should be enough.

Still a little unsure of how this was going to go, Alfred took the toy in one hand and pushed the tip against Arthur’s entrance. To his surprise, the touch made Arthur shift against his leg, and when he looked up he found that the smaller blond had stopped hiding his face, had turned as if to look back at Al and was biting his lip.

Ever so slightly, he pushed his hips back. “…please…”

Heh, that was cute.

“All of it?” Alfred asked, rubbing a little to tease his prisoner. “Can you take the whole thing, my pet?”

“Yes.”

Impressed, the athlete simply looked at the shorter male for a couple seconds before shrugging and resetting his grip on the toy. Gently but quickly, he added pressure until the muscles that kept Arthur closed gave, and the toy slid into him with surprising ease. Alfred didn’t stop pushing until all but the handle had disappeared from view, listening to drawn-out moan it pulled from his pet. That had been much too easy for the first invasion. The punk was already stretched.

A smirk slowly curled one side of Alfred’s mouth. “Oh, my, Arthur, you got yourself ready for me, didn’t you.”

Face darkly flushed, Arthur let his legs slide farther open and nodded. “Y-yes…”

In truth, he’d only stretched himself a little bit in preparation for this. Knowing that he was going to have sex had made it hard for him to think about anything else, so he’d pregamed a little before practicing the music for the concert. It was enough that he could take the toy without any trouble, but Alfred was going to be a different story—he was sure the athlete was bigger than this. Still, it’d been a few hours since he’d done anything to himself, so it was still a bit of a stretch.

“How’s it feel, Arthur? You’re slutty little ass practically pulled it in. Naughty, naughty. Does it feel good?” Playfully, the athlete twisted the dildo he had buried in the other blond’s body.

Arthur shuddered, groaning as his body still tried to adjust to the invasion. “Nnng….th-that…feels big…ah…”

His response made Alfred’s smirk grow and the athlete couldn’t help but purr. “It’s smaller than me.” The toy was twisted back to its original position.

Just as he’d thought. Still, Arthur flushed and shifted at the sensation of the dildo moving, a tremor running through him. “But…when you put it in so fast…feels bigger…”

“Mm.”

That was the only warning he got before the invading object began to move, sliding out and back in, cruelly slowly. But it still got a moan out of Arthur, and he hid his face in his arm as the feeling continued.

“Nn…hah…”

Damn it, why was he going so bloody slow? This was torture! This wasn’t the sort of punishment he was supposed to get!

“Master, please,” the blindfolded teen whined, rolling his hips in an attempt at getting Alfred to move the toy faster. “I want to call for you, not this.”

“Really? What else do you want?” Alfred shifted his grip on the dildo’s handle again before pushing it as deep into Arthur as it would go, angling it in circles in search of the punk’s prostate.

Moaning unabashedly, Arthur didn’t even try to answer the other male’s question. He was too busy enjoying that wonderful teasing pressure inside his body. He could feel it getting close to his prostate then moving away again, roaming around in a maddening circle and never quite hitting in the right spot. “Nnnn fuck….aaah…Master…!”

“You like that, don’t you.” Teasingly, Alfred pulled the toy back nearly halfway and continued circling it around so the tip prodded at Arthur’s insides.

Stomach arching against his Master’s leg, Arthur dug his fingers into the pillow and curled his toes. “Yes! It’s good!”

“Yeah, but you want more than this, don’t you, Arthur.” Wrist still twisting to move the toy, Alfred leaned over the smaller male and licked along the curve of his ear, making the silver rings pierced through it clink softly against each other; he felt the punk shudder beneath him and grinned. “So, my sexy little slut, my pretty pet, tell me what you want. Be nice and loud.”

“I…” he couldn’t catch his breath enough to really speak, and he had to swallow hard to hold back another moan, “I…want…”

“Yes?” Alfred purred, pushing the dildo deeper again to force a groan out of his plaything.

“Fuuuck me!” Panting heavily, Arthur bucked his hips back against the toy and purred to feel it press just a little deeper. “Pin me down…make me beg…please, Master!”

With a growl, the athlete twisted his hand and pumped the dildo once, twice, three times in rapid succession so that Arthur’s shoulders hunched and his hips shook as he cried out in pleasure. Damn, his boner was starting to get really annoying. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep from doing what Arthur wanted, holding him down and fucking him for as long as he could.

“M-Master, please,” the punk gasped, pulling weakly at his restraints. “I w-want you…”

Ignoring the request, Alfred bit down on his captive’s shoulder and pumped the toy in and out of Arthur’s body with more force than he’d used so far. If the handle hadn’t had a stopper on it, he might have shoved the thing into the green-eyed blond’s body so far it would have been difficult to get it back out. But he didn’t have to worry about that, so he was rough with twisting it and circling the tip around, pumping in and out as Arthur shook and writhed beneath him.

“Fuck! Ahhh! Mas-ster, please…! I can’t!” Arthur’s voice cracked on the last word, and Alfred gave the dildo one last deep twist before pulling it free of his pet’s body. The smaller male’s entrance twitched slightly, only partially closing after being stretched so much.

Oh, god, his dick hurt. The ring felt so much tighter now than it had at first. He’d have cum at least twice by now if he hadn’t been wearing it, maybe even three times. But like Alfred said, he wasn’t allowed to climax yet. He just had to sit there with his ass up and open, his cock swollen as it rubbed against Alfred’s jeans. Torture.

Arthur couldn’t get enough of it.

Sighing quietly, he let his body relax again in the short break he’d been given. He could feel Alfred moving around, heard him messing with one of the bottles again. What would he do next? Another dildo? A bigger one? Maybe a vibrator, or he might just use his fingers. God, that would be amazing. He couldn’t even imagine how good that would feel, to have those calloused fingers rubbing around inside him, hunting down that one spot that would make him scream. Alfred hadn’t managed to find it with the first toy, but Arthur’d bet he was fantastic with his fingers.

Zzzzip.

Arthur’s eyes widened behind the blindfold. That was the sound of a zipper. Alfred had just undone his zipper. He was taking off his jeans—yes, he could feel the denim sliding against his thighs as Alfred pushed them down. And that meant they were finally, finally, going to have sex.

He could have purred and wiggled out of happiness. But he held back, only allowing himself a smile and a playful tone. “Master? Are you going to punish me now?”

“Yeah. Long and hard.”

The wet sound of the athlete putting lube on himself made Arthur want to shiver excitedly. Yes, finally. He was going to have sex with Alfred Jones, star athlete and bloody handsome son of a bitch. It was like a dream come true. And, if he was really, really good, maybe they could do this again.

I’m gonna be the best shag you ever had, Jones.

Hands on his hips helped Arthur lift up so Alfred could pull his leg free and reposition his knees on the mattress. Something prodded against his entrance, cold and slick, easily slipping just a little ways inside since he was still open.

“Master,” Arthur sighed happily just before Alfred’s hands tightened and his hips jerked forward. The sudden invasion tore a cry from the punk’s lips and his back arched up, shoulders reaching his ears as his hands clenched into fists. “Shit!”

A growl sounded behind him; Alfred rubbed his hips for a few seconds, holding still to give him time to adjust to this new stretch. Panting, Arthur slowly relaxed again and cautiously shifted back against the other male. He could feel the athlete’s hips pressing against his ass, aggravating the bruises from being spanked. This was everything Alfred had, and it felt incredible. There was some discomfort, of course, as there always was with being stretched, but that had faded quickly enough. Now all Arthur wanted was for Alfred to show him what he could do with the cock he had buried in the Brit’s ass.

“Mm…Master was right,” the tattooed boy purred, shifting again and tightening his sphincter playfully. “He is bigger than the toy.”

Gritting his teeth, Alfred held back a moan at the feeling of Arthur tightening around him. “You’d better fuckin’ believe I am.” His voice was obviously strained, and he didn’t miss the way Arthur smiled to hear it.

“I like how Master feels. He fills me up so nice.”

Fucking tease.

Still, with a view like this one, he could put up with that. He’d thought it before and he was thinking it again: Arthur was beautiful. Even with that blindfold covering up his eyes and bruises forming on his wrists from the cuffs, he far outdid anyone else Alfred had seen. Besides, the restraints weren’t exactly a downside. They were sexy as hell, and Arthur’s expression, flushed by pleasure but still smiling that cocky smile, was enough to make Alfred want to kiss the punk breathless.

I’ll do more than that.

The bespectacled blond shifted his grip again, taking another moment to admire the way Arthur was stretched out in front of him, helpless to do anything but enjoy what Alfred meant to do to him. His ass was so hot and still tight around his cock, just waiting to be ravaged. He was really going to enjoy this.

“Be nice and loud for me, Arthur,” the blue-eyed blond instructed, slowly drawing his hips back until only the head of his length remained inside his pet. “Let me know how you like your punishment.”

Arthur shuddered just a little. “Aaaah…yes, Master.”

His response put a smirk on Alfred’s face. “Heh, good boy.” Without warning, he thrust back into Arthur hard enough to make the smaller blond jolt forward. “Nng!”

“Ah!”

Such a pretty voice.

Grip tight to steady Arthur’s hips, Alfred widened his stance for balance and began moving again. Normally, he would have started out slow and gentle, to get his partner used to the feeling of being taken. But that wasn’t the point of this. He had no intention of being gentle.

“O-oh god…ah…hah…!”

He couldn’t resist grinning at the sight of Arthur’s shoulders hunching up to his ears, though he only managed to hold the expression for a couple of thrusts before he lost concentration. “F-fuck…nng….”

“Master!” Writhing, Arthur pulled against his restraints and did his best to roll his hips in time with the larger male’s thrusts. It was so deep, rubbing against every nerve in him. His cock throbbed against the ring, desperate to release all the pressure that had been building in his groin and stomach since they’d started. Pain mixed with so much pleasure that he couldn’t keep still, couldn’t keep his mouth closed to hold back all of the sounds Alfred was driving out of him. “M-more…please…more…!”

Alfred curled over the spasming blond and bit his shoulder again, hips moving faster but with less rhythm. His thrusts were becoming sporadic; he couldn’t make himself loosen his grip on Arthur’s hips even though he knew his fingers were digging in, bruising and maybe even cutting a little with his nails. Not that the Brit seemed to mind at all. Arthur was too busy moaning to complain.

“Sh-shit…nn…close…” the larger male grunted between thrusts, words distorted by his panting and because he hadn’t released Arthur’s shoulder yet.

“P-p-pity…aaah….thought…Master would…last…l-longer…”

Eyes narrowing through the pleasure that was starting to overwhelm his senses, Alfred growled and somehow managed to pull one hand away from Arthur’s hips, moving it to the middle of the punk’s back and shoving roughly to pin him to the mattress.

Whimpering at the increase of the curve in his spine, Arthur struggled to get in enough oxygen. “Master…!”

“What?” Alfred’s hips slowed just slightly as he let go of the green-eyed blond’s shoulder then licked the bite mark he’d left.

“D-deeper…please…”

Sitting up enough that he could move more, Alfred slipped his hand around from his pet’s hip to his groin. Arthur’s cock felt swollen when he wrapped his fingers around it, and it almost seemed to pulse against his palm. The cock ring must have been pure torture for him.

Alfred grinned at the thought, increasing the speed and force of his thrusts while rubbing and squeezing Arthur’s length. The slender blond moaned loudly, squirming, his hips twitching between his Master’s cock and hand.

“Ah…hah…nng…Mas-ster…god…!”

His movements added to the friction around Alfred’s length and the bespectacled teen groaned lowly, biting the Brit’s back and giving a particularly rough buck. “A-Arthur…”

The sharp sting of teeth piercing his skin pulled a whimper from Arthur and he tightened unintentionally around his Master’s length, his entire frame shaking with the trapped pressure of his denied release.

“Shit…!” Alfred bit harder for a moment to regain control of himself, vaguely recognizing the sound of Arthur’s whimper. He didn’t want to cum yet, damn it! Not until Arthur begged.

When he got himself back under some semblance of control, the athlete forced himself to stop biting his pet’s back, then licked the mark in apology. It was bleeding a little, since he’d bitten so hard, but he didn’t feel bad. That would come later, after, and he’d deal with it then. For now, he liked to see such a long-lasting mark on his pretty pet. So he smiled as he sat up, moving slow but deep into Arthur as he patiently stroked the Brit’s hardened length, holding back his own release as well as tormenting the green-eyed blond a little.

Arthur whined and bucked desperately. “Master!”

Pleasure coursed through Alfred at that extra movement and he purred, letting his head fall back a little as he smiled lazily. “Good boy…”

It was a whimper this time, accompanied by a frustrated buck. “Fuck y-you!”

Oh, that sort of disrespect wasn’t allowed.

Raising his eyebrows, the blue-eyed teen stopped moving entirely. “Arthur.”

“What?” the punk growled, shifting uncomfortably at how much pressure was building in his gut.

Alfred took his hand away from the smaller boy’s groin, drawing it back. “Watch your mouth.”

Smack!

The blow ripped a yelp out of Arthur and he partially collapsed on the bed, trembling and panting. “Nn…s-sorry…Master…”

“I don’t believe you.”Alfred’s other hand tangled in the green-tipped-blond’s hair, tugging lightly, and he slapped Arthur’s ass again.

“Ah! Hah…” Panting heavily, the punk shuddered and fought to keep from falling down, his muscles trembling with the effort.

“Mm…that made you tighten…” With a smile, the blue-eyed teen began to move slowly. “Purr for me, little slut.”

Arthur moaned and arched, digging his fingers into the pillow. “Pl-please…fuck me…harder…deeper…please…”

“You’re so cute when you beg.” His teasing made the punk whine embarrassedly and Arthur hid his face again, barely managing to hold up his hips. As a reward, Alfred moved just a little more, licking Arthur’s spine; the salty taste of sweat was a stark contrast to the cool smell of mint. But he was more interested in the way the slender teen arched and moaned softly.

“M-Master…please…”

“Such a needy pet,” Alfred commented off-handedly, though he settled his hands on the pierced boy’s hips to hold him still as he quickened his pace, moving deep and roughly. The pleasure that flooded Arthur’s senses him shudder, his legs spreading wider as he pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his groan.

“Nng…ah…Master…hah…!”

Thrusting harder, Alfred dug his fingers into Arthur’s hips and yanked him back to get just a little deeper.

Green eyes went wide behind his blindfold and Arthur bucked roughly. “Alfred!”

He should have punished the pale blond for that, but he was too distracted by how close he was to climaxing. It was all he could do to reach around Arthur and start rubbing his length again while still making sure he was moving deep enough to hit the spot he’d discovered./p>

“Ah!” Roughly, Arthur thrust against Alfred’s hand as he groaned and whimpered loudly. More pressure against his prostate made him keen, put him on the verge of collapsing. “Al…Al! God…!”

“Found it…” Pleased with himself, Alfred continued with as much aim and control as he could without holding himself back from his release. It wouldn’t be long now.

A particularly rough thrust made Arthur buck, and he shouted his Master’s name as he moved desperately between the hand on his cock and the larger male’s hips. “Please! Alfred!” Groaning, he clenched his jaw against the pain in his groin as he tightened again.

“Arthur!”

The punk’s name was all Alfred managed to gasp as his hips stuttered under the overwhelming pleasure that swept over him. He came, bucking hard, and groaned loudly as his seed spilled deep into Arthur’s body.

“A-Alfred,” the golden blond moaned weakly, panting and shaking, “nng…”

For several long moments, Alfred sat hunched over his pet, breathing heavily, his eyes closed as strength slowly returned to his muscles. Eventually, he regained control of himself and pulled out of Arthur’s body, watching as his length slid free from the tattooed boy’s twitching hole. Mere seconds later, while the muscles were still trying to tighten and close, the cum he’d just unloaded leaked out and began to drip down Arthur’s thighs.

Now that was a sight to see. He watched it for a bit longer, until it occurred to him that Arthur hadn’t collapsed like the athlete thought he would. The punk had more strength than he’d thought.

“Good boy, Arthur,” he complimented, rubbing the bruised backside that was still being presented to him. “That was a good fuck. I guess you’re a pretty talented little slut.”

Arthur whimpered at the crude remarks, shifting again and trying to rub himself with his thighs. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, and with how badly he wanted to cum, he was willing to do whatever it took to get a little relief.

It only took Alfred about a second and a half to realize what his pet was doing, and by then he’d decided what he wanted to do next. Fixing a grin in place, he moved over the golden blond and bit Arthur’s ear, pressing close to make the punk freeze.

“You want to cum, don’t you, Arthur,” he growled, then licked along the rings again. “I know you do. You want it so bad you’d hump a cactus right now. You wouldn’t even feel the needles.” One of his hands reached around, finding the slender male’s length and rubbing it teasingly.

“Ahhh!”

“Yeah, you’d fuck just about anything right now if it meant you’d get to cum.” He squeezed.

“M-Maaaster!” Arthur called desperately, struggling against the cuffs with renewed vigor. His hips bucked weakly against Alfred’s hand, only for his aching cock to be abandoned. The sounds of Alfred messing with something above his head reached him, and he held still to make sure he wouldn’t get in trouble for interrupting. But when one of the handcuffs went slack then came off, he froze out of pure disbelief.

Alfred was letting him go already?

His surprise was short-lived. It was only a couple of seconds of listening to the chain rattle before the cuff was locked back into place. Hands gripped his shoulders, pulling until he sat up, then moved down his sides to his hips. Fingers wrapped around the band of his thong and tugged until it slid down his thighs and past his knees; Arthur kicked it off onto the floor as those fingers trailed back up his thighs. The gentle strokes had him arching his back and shivering.

“M-Master…?”

“Yes?”

A tongue dragged over the bite marks on his shoulder, stinging a little.

“A-ah…what’re you doing?”

With a smirk in place, Alfred used his grip on the smaller boy’s hips to pull him back until Arthur was sitting in his lap, the athlete’s quickly stiffening cock trapped under his ass.

“Master is…hard…”

“Yeah.” Holding his pet close, the bespectacled teen licked Arthur’s cheek and shifted beneath him, rubbing his length against the punk’s backside. “Mm…such a cute, tight little ass…I want you, Arthur.” His voice lowered into a husky whisper, expressing just how aroused he was. “I want you to scream my name as I fuck you raw. I want to fill you up with my cum and watch it leak back out because there’s too much for you to hold. You’ll dream about me for weeks after this. Your ass is mine.”

Arthur shivered at his Master’s description of what he wanted, lifting his still-cuffed hands and reaching back to hold onto the larger teen’s hair. His back was to Alfred’s chest, his knees to either side of the athlete’s. It would be easy for Alfred to take him like this, and by god he wanted him to.

“…do it. Please, Master. Make me scream,” he begged softly, rolling his hips so that Alfred moaned into his ear. “Nn…I want you.”

“I know you do, pretty pet.” Alfred nipped at the pale blond’s ear, arms winding tight around Arthur’s waist to pull him closer as they ground against each other. “Mm…and I want you, too…but I have another toy to give you before we start again.”

The punk let go of his Master’s hair and let his hands rest in his lap. “Another one, Master?” Arthur tried not to whine when he asked, but he couldn’t help but wonder what else the athlete planned on doing to him. He was already cuffed, blindfolded, and wearing a cock ring. He’d had a dildo up his ass and smelled very strongly of mint. What more was there?

Nodding, the blue-eyed teenager shifted again and reached back to where the other toys sat out of the way. Soft cloth met the touch of his fingers and he gathered it up into his palm to bring back around. “Open up.”

Realization dawned on Arthur and he slowly did as he was told, letting his mouth hang open. Seconds later, cloth chafed against his tongue and the corners of his mouth as Alfred put the gag in place and tied it behind his head. It wasn’t tight enough to be uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t be able to shake it free or talk clearly around it. When the gag was firmly in place, Arthur closed his teeth around the fabric and relaxed against his Master’s chest. Alfred was warm and his body was firm muscle—just as comfortable to lean against as he was to lie on like he’d done earlier.

Smiling, the athlete set his hand on Arthur’s thigh and rubbed gently. “Just to make sure you don’t forget yourself like last time. It wasn’t very nice of you to say that.”

Arthur whimpered softly, everything about him radiating need, promising that he would do anything to earn his release.

“Good boy. Lift up.”

Obedient, the punk put his weight on his knees and leaned forward, lifting himself off Alfred’s lap, his hands braced on the jock’s knees. A bit of spunk mixed with lube dripped off him onto what little of Alfred’s thigh was revealed. The athlete’s jeans were still caught above his knees, the zipper catching slightly on the sensitive skin of Arthur’s thighs as he waited.

Fingers found his entrance and rubbed momentarily before pressing inside; Arthur moaned as his cock twitched in reaction to the invasion, already starting to trembling again.

“Mm…what a slutty ass…you don’t need any more lube or stretching. Good.” With his hands on the gagged boy’s hips, Alfred guided Arthur back and carefully helped him sit, sheathing himself in the Brit’s body once more. A long groan sounded in Arthur’s throat and his back arched, his entire body tensing.

Somehow, like this, Alfred felt bigger than before. Or maybe he was just more desperate for his release than ever.

“What a wonderful pet you are,” Alfred purred, running his hands up and down the punk’s thighs. “You’re so warm, and you’re slutty little ass takes me so easily. I can go so deep…” To make his point, the athlete gently thrust his hips up, easily rubbing against Arthur’s prostate.

“Nng!” Doubling over, Arthur grabbed himself and moaned through the gag, his hips rolling desperately as he rubbed and stroked. “Mm! Nn!” His sounds were cut off and muted by the gag, but the pleasure and pain he was experiencing were obvious.

Even though the way Arthur was moving felt great, Alfred caught the smaller blond’s wrists and forced his hands up into the air. He brought them back, guiding them to hold onto his hair like before, and only let go when the punk’s fingers were tangled in his own ash blond locks.

“Good boy,” he crooned, sliding his hands down his pet’s arms to his sides, then around to his chest. His fingers encountered the slender blond’s nipples and he grinned, licking Arthur’s pierced ear and playing with the ring through his nipple at the same time.

“Mmmmmm….mm…nn….hnnn…” Back arched, the punk squirmed in his Master’s lap and weakly tugged at the hair in his grasp. He could feel Alfred’s cock shifting around inside him, felt it rubbing against his inner walls just short of nudging his prostate again.

Deeper, he needed him deeper, damn it all!

The hand that wasn’t playing with Arthur’s nipple ring moved down to his hip and forced him to roll them. A breathy moan sounded in his ear; the hand on his hip tightened and pushed again.

“Move.” Even breathless and strained, there was no mistaking the command in Alfred’s voice.

Arthur nodded and did as his Master said, rocking his hips back and forth, lifting a little with each forward movement. It was a lot of work, riding him like this when he didn’t have the proper leverage or anything to help him. He was out of breath already and had no hopes of catching it, not with that gag in his mouth. The only oxygen he could get was through his nose, and he was breathing hard with the effort of doing as Alfred wanted.

“Mm…ah….Arthur…”

Teeth dug into the side of his neck and Alfred’s arm hooked around his waist, forcing him back harder against the athlete’s hips. He struggled weakly, trying to beg around the gag, breathing even harder through his nose. “Mm! Nn…” The golden blond whimpered, trembling against his captor’s body.

“Relax, Arthur.” The bespectacled blond’s other hand stroked down Arthur’s side to his ass, where it stopped to rub and caress. “Shhh…”

What the hell did he mean, relax? Arthur couldn’t relax! The head of Alfred’s dick was pressing against his prostate, shifting and rubbing so gently that he couldn’t stand it. Not to mention he was pretty sure his own cock was turning purple with the amount of pressure that was trapped in it by the ring he was still wearing. Of course, he couldn’t say any of that, thanks to the gag, so he settled for whining and twitching his hips against the larger blond’s hold.

“You want more, don’t you.”

Arthur nodded eagerly, spreading his legs wider, and swallowed hard to try to get rid of the spit that had been gathering behind the gag.

“Then get up.”

….what?

Confused, the green-eyed blond hesitated, and consequently took much too long for his Master’s liking.

“Arthur,” Alfred growled, squeezing the sensitive cheek he had in his grip and pulling a gasp from his pet, “are you disobeying your Master?”

Stiffening, the smaller blond whimpered and shook his head quickly, shifting against Alfred’s hold.

“Are you sure? For a moment, I thought you were ignoring me.”

He shook his head again, wishing the gag was gone so he could speak, so he could explain that he just wasn’t sure what the athlete wanted. How would getting up give him more?

Alfred smirked, hand gently kneading at the other blond’s ass. “Good, because I want you on your knees against that wall so I can fuck you as hard and deep as you want.”

Mother of god, yes.

Though it took a few seconds for those words to fully settle in Arthur’s brain, excitement quickly warmed his body.

The gag kept him from forming any words, but he let out a rather high-pitched sound as he nodded again, shifting on the other blond’s lap then moaning at the friction against his prostate. “Nn…”

“Yeah, you want it.”

Firmly, Alfred held Arthur against himself as he pushed up off his heels so that the two blonds were kneeling on the bed. The taller of the two couldn’t straighten entirely without slipping out of his pet, so he kept his knees partially bent as he turned Arthur and arranged him against the wall. He stretched his pet’s arms up, flattening Arthur’s palms to the wall and arranging the chain between his cuffs to hang loosely.

“Pretty,” he commented, examining the difference between the Brit’s pale skin and his own tan as he let his hands slide back down slender arms, over shoulders and ribs to finally rest on narrow hips. Arthur was trembling under his touch, his forehead resting against the wall. That wall might have scratch marks in it before long.

Grip tightening, the blue-eyed blond drew his hips back then quickly thrust them forward again, driving up at the same time to make sure he rubbed exactly where he knew Arthur wanted it.

“Hnng!” Bucking roughly in the limited space between his hips and the wall, Arthur shouted against the gag, his shoulders hunching and nails digging into the white paint they found “Nng…nn…” He was breathing hard again, eyes shut tight behind the blindfold. Sweat had formed on his skin, some left over from the first round as well as new droplets that gathered. It was in his hair, darkening the gold, and running down his body.

A tongue caught of a few of the beads on his neck, accompanied by the hot caress of Alfred’s breath. “Mm…warm and tight…” The athlete was rocking slowly, going deep enough to keep brushing against that sensitive bundle of nerves, but not hard enough to make Arthur cry out again.

In all his sexual life, he’d never been tormented like this. Most guys didn’t have the balls for it. They were too eager to please. But Alfred, while giving Arthur all the pleasure he wanted, was definitely more focused on pleasing himself. That didn’t matter to Arthur, so long as he eventually got to release, and he put all of his focus into moving with the larger male, vaguely aware that spit had soaked through the gag and was dripping down his chin.

“Hnnn…nn…mmn…”

Such beautiful sounds his pet made, Alfred thought, smirking slightly. He really was enjoying them, but they were a little too quiet. That was fixed easily enough.

“Mm…” Without warning, the athlete pulled back then bucked roughly, the sudden jolt making Arthur’s stomach arch against the wall as he cried out against the gag again.

That was much better.

Abandoning his gentle pace, Alfred pinned the smaller blond against the wall and held him there. His thrusts became more aggressive until he was pounding into Arthur mercilessly. There would be bruises all over the punk come morning.

“So…beautiful,” the bespectacled teen panted, managing to keep his grin in place as pleasure threatened to drown him. “Such a—nnn—good pet…”

“Nng! Mm…mm…! Nn!” Unable to breathe without the air leaving him in a desperate moan or groan, Arthur ground hips against the wall as his Master repeatedly rammed his cock as deep into the green-eyed blond as he could. Desperation made him claw at the wall and dig his teeth into the gag. With his body being ravaged like this, he should have cum long ago. His release loomed just out of his reach, and he began to wish Alfred would take pity on him by removing the ring. He wished it, and at the same time, knew it wasn’t going to happen.

Then, the unthinkable happened—Alfred began to slow down.

Throwing his head back, Arthur purposefully tightened around the larger male’s length and whined loudly in protest. His obvious panic made Alfred chuckle, then the athlete kissed his shoulder.

“Good boy.” Immediately, the pace picked back up, and Arthur was left to try to hold on as Alfred fucked him even more roughly than before.

He couldn’t see, and not just because of the blindfold. What little light had seeped in around the edges of the cloth were gone, lost in the blackness that meant he needed his release now or he was going to lose his mind. God, this was awful, it was torture and pleasure and pain and ecstasy. It made his throat sore from trying to force his voice out past the gag. His back ached from the effort of keeping his hips in the right spot for Alfred to continue with this wonderful, terrible punishment.

It felt like they’d been going for hours, for days, maybe. Or was it only ten minutes? He didn’t know. Time didn’t matter. All that mattered was how close he was, how maddeningly tight his stomach felt, and all the pressure in his groin that pulsed with every thrust of Alfred’s hips against his ass. If he’d have been able to cum, he’d have screamed as he did. He wouldn’t have been able to help it.

“Nng…” he felt the small stutter in the larger blond’s rhythm and knew that Alfred was about to climax seconds before it happened. A loud groan ripped from the athlete’s throat and he bucked hard, holding his hips there to cum as deep inside his pet’s body as he could manage.

“Fuck…! Arthur!”

The Brit barely managed to whimper in response to his name being called in his Master’s ecstasy, and he shuddered to feel the heat of Alfred’s spunk slipping against his insides.

“Mm…” Still regaining his strength, the blue-eyed blond kissed Arthur’s neck before shifting back far enough that he slipped out of the punk. Just like before, he watched his cum leak out of the golden blond and drip down his legs onto the blankets. They were going to have to wash those after all this.

Chest heaving, Arthur concentrated on getting enough air into his lungs. He was starting to feel light-headed and dizzy, and all of his muscles were turning to jelly. When his legs gave, he could only moan weakly as he fell back against Alfred’s chest. The athlete’s skin felt sticky with sweat, but he caught the smaller blond in his arms and carefully cradled him as he folded his legs and relaxed for a little bit.

“Shhh, Arthur,” he murmured, stroking sweat-darkened bangs off his pet’s forehead, “it’s all right. You’ve earned a break.” As gently as he could manage, and without jostling the boy in his lap, Alfred untied the gag and pulled it free of Arthur’s mouth so he could breathe properly.

“Hah…th…thanks…” It was much easier to catch his breath now, so Arthur snuggled against his Master’s chest to enjoy the break he’d been given. He didn’t move when the cuffs were taken off his wrists, though he was surprised. Still, he didn’t want to sound like he was complaining, so he didn’t say anything. He kept still and let Alfred cuddle him for a little while.

“Arthur.” Gentle fingers tipped his chin up then trailed over his cheek to catch the fabric of the blindfold. With a few careful tugs, the cloth was pulled free, and Arthur blinked against the sudden light of his bedroom. Pain made him squint as his pupils tried to adjust.

Even more confused, the punk looked up at his companion just in time for Alfred to duck down and kiss him. That hand returned, cupping his cheek this time, keeping him from pulling away as a tongue slipped into his mouth. Not that he wanted to. It was a nice kiss, gentle and reassuring after everything he’d been put through so far tonight.

As much as he was enjoying it, Arthur still hadn’t managed to catch his breath and pulled away after only a few moments. Panting, he nuzzled into Alfred’s neck and closed his eyes as he tried to get the rest of his body to relax. He couldn’t quite manage it, though, because he was still dealing with all that pressure.

Lips brushed against his temple.

“You okay, Artie?”

Slowly, the pierced teen nodded. “Hurts.”

“What does?”

Fingers trembling with the effort, Arthur gestured at his groin. “Ring.”

“Oh. Want me to take it off?”

“That’d be nice.”

Alfred smiled and shifted the smaller blond in his arms, reaching towards the source of his lover’s discomfort. But he didn’t touch the cock ring, choosing instead to gently stroke Arthur’s swollen length.

“Nn…wh-what…?” Tensing all over again, Arthur managed to look up at the blue-eyed blond and paled to see the smirk that was taking over Alfred’s features.

Uh oh.

Apparently, the game wasn’t over yet.

“Look at you.” Alfred’s index finger teased the tip of his pet’s member, making Arthur bite his lip. “Leaking and swollen like this. No wonder you’re uncomfortable. But I’m not done with your punishment, Arthur, so you’re going to have to put up with it for a little longer.”

Arthur whined and shrank back against the taller blond’s chest. “N-no…please…I can’t…”

The athlete’s smirk grew and he gripped his captive’s overly sensitive flesh, rubbing just slightly.

“Nnnn….” the punk moaned weakly as his body shuddered with painful pleasure.

“That’s too bad.” More casually than should have been possible, Alfred removed the Brit from his lap and pinned him on the bed, grinning at the pleading look Arthur gave him. “Such pretty eyes. I missed seeing them go wide whenever I took you so deep you couldn’t stand it.

Embarrassed, Arthur whined again and looked away, covering his face with his hands. This was too much. He loved this game and he loved how good Alfred was at it, but he was going to lose his mind if it kept up much longer. It was already difficult to focus on anything other than how needy his erection was for freedom.

He’s going to fuck me ‘til I can’t move.

Just the thought made his cock twitch. This was going to be cruel, but he was going to enjoy it. There was no point in thinking otherwise.

“Ready, Arthur?” Something cold and wet touched his entrance and Arthur paused, surprised. He’d been so busy wondering if he was going to survive this night that he hadn’t noticed Alfred preparing another toy. What was it? Another dildo?

His silence made Alfred tsk his tongue. “Daydreaming, when there’s so much to feel right here? I thought you were trained better than that, Arthur.”

Whatever was being held at his entrance pushed forward, going at least two inches into his body, and Arthur couldn’t stop his groan. This new toy was bigger than the last one, maybe even bigger than Alfred was. What was the athlete planning?

“There’s not much lube left in you, but that’s okay. My cum works just fine.”

The feeling of the toy sliding farther into his body made Arthur shudder, and he arched his back off the bed. “Nnn…M-Master…wh-what is it…?”

“Can’t you tell?” Alfred grinned and pressed his thumb against the small button on the toy’s base. Instantly, a low buzzing sound filled the room, accompanied by a loud moan from Arthur.

“Jesus…!”

“Not quite.”

What breath he’d managed to regain during his break left him as Arthur gripped the blankets and lifted his hips. “Haaah…ah….sh-shit…Master…!”

Alfred purred at the sight. “Just begging for it.” A few quick presses of his thumb turned the vibrator up to its highest setting.

“Fuck!” Arthur shouted, bucking roughly, the rest of his body squirming as he moaned. “Ah…nng…!”

Smirking, Alfred held the button down for a few seconds until the toy returned to the lowest setting, then leaned down and bit the inside of Arthur’s thigh. The punk gasped and whimpered, trying to pull his leg away only for Alfred to grab his ankle.

“No.” Another bite, this one higher up, closer to his groin, and Arthur whined when the vibrator was turned up again.

“Ahhh….” Trembling and twitching from the toy that made his insides feel like they were going to explode, Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and curled his toes against the pain that came with all this pleasure. He managed to keep his voice down for over a minute, but only until Alfred began to pump the vibrator in and out of him. Slow, but deep, and he kept pushing the button to change how strong the vibrations were. Arthur couldn’t do anything but try to breathe between the sounds that were dragged out of his tormented body. “Nng…M-Master…!”

Alfred continued without pause, watching his pet writhe and struggle to withstand his body’s reactions. This was what he’d wanted every time the punk had teased him, to see him broken down and begging for more. “How’s it feel, Arthur?” he asked huskily, twisting the vibrator against his pet’s insides. “Hm?”

“A-ah…hah…s-so much…so good…god…” Eyes bleary and only partially open, Arthur panted hard and kept his hands fisted in the blankets so he wouldn’t touch himself. That would only get him in trouble, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to handle anything more than what was already being done to him. Then, suddenly, the vibrator was on its highest setting and pushing deeper into his body until it pressed against his prostate. Arthur screamed at the spike of white-hot pleasure that shot through him, hips bucking of their own accord. “Alfred! Oh…g-god…Al…!” Panting and writhing, the tattooed blond didn’t even realize what he’d said.

But Alfred fell silent, blue eyes hooded, and a second later he pulled the vibrator free of the smaller male’s body. Arthur moaned at the last few sensations then collapsed back on the bed, trembling and struggling to catch his breath.

The quiet was what made him notice something was wrong first, and he dared to look up at Alfred only to whimper at the expression on his face. “…M-Master…?”

Without a word, the athlete leaned down, hooked Arthur’s knees over his shoulders, and took the entirety of the punk’s length into his mouth. Arthur gasped and groaned loudly as his spine arched, green eyes wide in shock.

“Shit…!”

Hands gripped his thighs, rubbing and squeezing roughly. Alfred’s mouth was merciless as it sucked him, full of hot breaths and a tongue that dragged every possible sound out of him, as well as teeth that made the green-eyed blond’s breath hitch in his throat.

It was too much. He couldn’t take this, couldn’t have his cock swallowed so completely while that damned ring was still on him. There was just as much pain as there was pleasure, and Arthur had to close his eyes tight to withstand all the sensations coursing through his body. His fingers tangled in Alfred’s hair, tugging without him meaning to. When Alfred lifted his head, teeth and tongue dragging against the Brit’s sensitive flesh, Arthur shuddered and bucked desperately.

“Master…! Nng…hah…!”

“Mm…” The athlete licked his pet from base to tip. “You are just begging for me…”

Arthur keened when the head of his cock was nipped teasingly. “M-More…please…!”

So slowly it was more pain than pleasure, Alfred took the smaller blond’s length into his mouth again and sucked gently, rubbing the vein he found with his tongue. His head bobbed slightly, and he hummed in the back of his throat. Arthur’s heels dug into his back to give the Brit some leverage as he tried to move his hips. Using one hand to steady the punk, Alfred used his other to slap the side of Arthur’s ass.

Eyes wide, Arthur yelped and arched his stomach upwards, every muscle straining to bring him his release despite the ring. “Master!”

And then the mouth was gone. Arthur was dropped back onto the mattress to bounce before he settled. He spent several moments just trying to breathe before he finally managed to open his eyes again and look up to see Alfred staring down at him, his expression blank.

“Are you ready to continue your punishment now, Arthur?” the blue-eyed teen asked, and Arthur curled in on himself protective.

“No more,” he begged quietly, covering his groin with his hands. “Please. Let me cum. I can’t take this anymore.”

if you do a good job, I’ll let you cum afterwards.”

Arthur whimpered, crawling backwards on the bed. “N-no….please…”

Rolling his eyes, Alfred grabbed one of the punk’s ankles and pulled him close again. “Sit up, Arthur.”

Despite how certain he was that he didn’t have the strength left to go again, Arthur did as he was told, and allowed Alfred to turn him around.

“Arms behind your back.”

Shit.

Nervous, the slender blond obeyed his Master, and held still as the leather straps he kept with the rest of his toys were lashed around his forearms to tie them together. Each buckle was set tight but not uncomfortably so—he couldn’t have gotten out if his life depended on it.

“Perfect.”

I’m going to die.

Arthur whined and tucked his chin to his collarbone, pulling his knees up and resting his forehead on them. How was he going to withstand any more punishment? His dick was going to turn black and fall off if he didn’t get rid of that ring soon.

“Lie down, Arthur.”

He did, struggling to do so without falling on his face.

“Hips up.”

Now he knew what was coming—Alfred wasn’t quite ready to be ridden yet. It was going to hurt, especially because his backside was already bruised and sore and a little swollen. He was sure his cheeks were red and blue and black instead of his usual pale coloring. They would take weeks to get back to normal. Still, he did as he was told, pulling his knees up to prop his ass in the air the way Alfred wanted.

“Such an obedient little pet.”

Smack!

Gasping, Arthur clenched his hands into fists and arched his stomach towards the bed. “M-Master…”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Over and over, Alfred spanked the smaller male, alternating hands each hit to make sure his pet’s plump little ass cheeks were given equal treatment. Every blow received a yelp or a whine from Arthur, until he could do nothing more than lie there, his hips trembling as he panted.

“Nn…Master…” he moaned weakly, voice breaking, and Alfred’s hand paused in mid-air before lowering. Instead of dealing out another slap, the athlete leaned down and licked each mark he’d just made as Arthur whimpered. He was so sore and sensitive that even gentle licks were too much.

“Mm…it’s such a pretty shade of pink…” the bespectacled teen commented, smiling as kissed one cheek then the other. Arthur pressed his face into the mattress to hide his embarrassment. “What is it, my sweet little pet…?” Alfred purred softly, grabbing one of the straps and pulling the Brit upright.

A weak moan left the punk and he shifted uncomfortably to feel his heels digging into his own backside. “M-Master is very good at p-punishing…”

“Mm…yeah…”

Shifting again to try to ease the pain in his ass, Arthur did his best to ignore the maddening tightness in his gut. He felt the mattress dip as Alfred moved behind him, and couldn’t help but tense a little out of nervousness.

“Arthur.”

The punk bit his tongue as he turned around, then paused in surprise. For the first time the entire night, Alfred was naked, and it was a delicious thing to see. He really was all sunkissed skin and toned muscles, and he was lying back on the bed with his hands tucked under his head as he grinned lazily.

“Come here.”

Mesmerized by the perfect body he was finally getting a good look at, Arthur nodded twice before he moved to do as he was told. His knees shuffled against the blankets, and he wobbled slightly when it came to swinging his leg over Alfred to straddle the athlete’s waist.

Alfred smiled up at him, moving his hands to the smaller male’s hips. “This is a nice view,” he teased, and Arthur’s already flushed cheeks darkened even further as the Brit looked away stubbornly. It wasn’t that he was shy about Alfred looking at him—the athlete had been checking him out for years, after all, and Arthur had done the same to him—but in this position, there was no hiding what state his groin was in.

“Hey.” Gently, Alfred cupped the slender blond’s cheek and turned Arthur’s face back so he could see his green eyes. “Don’t look away from me while we do this.”

Arthur opened his mouth to say that he would, of course, do whatever his Master wanted, but the words didn’t form. No sound came out. He was too distracted by the way Alfred was looking at him to talk.

Bloody hell.

The athlete was smiling crookedly, one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other to give a glimpse of his pearly whites. His glasses were slightly askew because he was lying down, and he’d pushed his hair back out of his face. There was no way to overlook the vivid color of his eyes or the strong line of his jaw. He looked happy, and he was looking at Arthur like that.

Oh, shit.

Not okay. This was not part of the plan. Play a little, shag him, set up a semi-long-term system of being sex buddies, sure. He’d really been enjoying his night with the athlete. Who wouldn’t? But this, looking at that smile and those eyes and feeling his heart stutter? He hadn’t signed up for that.

Developing feelings for Alfred Jones was not what he’d had in mind.

“Arthur? Is something wrong?” There was a concerned frown on the jock’s face as he looked up at the stunned Brit. “Arthur?”

Blinking, Arthur shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts then smiled. “Sorry, Master, I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Alfred still looked worried. “What were you thinking about?”

How handsome you are.

That I like your smile more than I have right to.

Getting to be like this with you whenever I want.

His first few thoughts weren’t responses he could actually give, so Arthur looked down shyly and shifted against the larger male. “I was thinking how lucky I am to have you for a Master.” That was close enough to the truth, right?

“Oh. Well, I’m lucky to have you for a pet.” The bespectacled teen’s crooked smile returned, and Arthur thought he would have put a hand over his heart if he hadn’t been tied like this. His heart really needed to quit doing that.

“Thank you, Master,” he mumbled to cover up his reaction, shifting again. “Am I going to ride you now?”

Gently, Alfred started to rub the golden blond’s hips. “Yeah.”

“Will Master help me?” Arthur put on his most winsome expression as he rose up onto his knees and tried to position himself above the athlete’s groin. This sort of thing would have been much easier if he’d been able to use his hands.

The smile became an outright grin. “Maybe, if my pretty little pet asks nicely.”

Ask nicely? He could do that.

Biting his lip, Arthur tucked his chin to his collarbone and looked at Alfred through his bangs, green eyes wide and innocent. “Please, Master,” he began softly, his tone pleading, “help me pleasure you. I want you, want you to stretch me and fill me up. I want to call for you. Please.”

“Mm…just because you asked so nicely…” With one hand on Arthur’s hip to steady him, Alfred used his other hand to guide himself towards his pet’s entrance. “Sit.”

Arthur nodded obediently and began lowering his hips again, his back arching when the taller blond’s cock pushed inside him. “Aaah…th-thank you…Master…”

Rubbing the punk’s hips again, Alfred shifted and let out a soft moan. It was his third time taking Arthur tonight, and he still wasn’t over how tight and hot the slender blond was, even after he’d been stretched and fucked. “Mm…good boy…you feel so good for me…” he purred, looking up at his pet through hooded eyes. His expression alone was enough to make Arthur shiver.

Already slightly out of breath, the green-eyed blond nodded and carefully rolled his hips. “Nnn…”

“Good?” Alfred used his grip on the punk’s hips to help him move, his gaze moving back and forth between the look on Arthur’s face and the way the Brit’s cock bobbed as he moved. It looked like it must be painful to put up with, but it wouldn’t be long now. After this, he’d help Arthur reach his release.

“Y-yes….hah….” Eyes closing in concentration, Arthur focused on moving, leaning back slightly to take Alfred deeper into himself.

“Mmm….good…”

It was. It was good, but already Arthur was getting impatient. This wasn’t the punishment he’d been expecting.

“Master,” he gasped after another minute or so of this slow moving, “please, help me…it’s…not enough…I want more…please…”

The breathy request came as a small surprise to Alfred, but he was quick to smirk and nod. “You’re very good at asking nicely,” he commented, just before tightening his grip on Arthur’s hips and yanking downwards at the same time that he bucked upwards.

Eyes going wide, Arthur threw his head back and let out a loud groan. “Hnnng…! Hah…hah…s-so big…so deep…Master…” he panted, rolling his hips as much as the larger male’s hold would allow. “Ahh…”

A strained moan escaped Alfred’s clenched jaw. “Damn, A-Artie…!” he forced out, bucking again to make the blond astride him cry out and struggle against his restraints.

“Master! Nng…ah…!” Desperate beyond belief, Arthur curled forward and started moving again, rolling his hips as quickly as he could manage. “Hah…ah…”

His own breath coming out in groans more often than not, Alfred’s fingers dug into the smaller male’s hips as he moved with him, thrusting up with so much force that Arthur’s knees nearly left the mattress.

“Oh…oh god…M-Master….I…f-feel so good! Want…a-ah…hah…fuck…” Too out breath to finish his sentence, Arthur bucked weakly and let out a quiet moan. Alfred’s only response was to move faster, to pull on the punk’s hips so he could drive even deeper into his body. “Ah! Ah…Master! I…I can’t…!”

“Arthur!”

Leaning back, the restrained blond took his Master’s length as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips desperately as a shudder worked its way through him. His efforts earned a loud groan from the athlete, as well as a rough buck that put pressure on his prostate.

“Nng!” His entire body was shaking with the need for his release. All he could think to do was move faster, to grind his hips down on Alfred’s and hope the blue-eyed teen was going to take pity on him soon. “S-so hot…big…g-god…Master…w-wanna feel you cum!”

Spurred on by that, Alfred spread his feet farther apart and bucked again, felt Arthur shudder and tighten as a cry left the punk’s lips. He was close, so god damned close, that nothing could have held him back from thrusting into his captive again and again. Arthur was writhing on top of him, tears running down his cheeks from the pleasure and pain of it all.

“Please…Master…please!”

Fingers digging into hips, the athlete gave one last, vicious buck before his muscles spasmed with the force of his climax. “Arthur!” he shouted the musician’s name, holding those slender hips against his own to make sure his pet would be filled to overflowing. Slowly, his body relaxed again; his hands fell away from the other blond’s hips to rest limply at his sides, and his feet lost their purchase against the blankets, sliding until his legs lay flat.

“Damn,” he panted, eyes closed as the white that had erased everything else faded to the black of his eyelids. It was while he was trying to catch his breath that a quiet whimper reached his ears, and he cracked one eye open to look up at the source.

His teeth digging into his lower lip, Arthur fought to hold still as he sat atop his Master. The athlete’s softening cock was still buried in his ass, after all, so any movement would transfer to the overly sensitive flesh. But he couldn’t help how badly he was trembling, and his hips twitched ever so slightly despite his best efforts. When he finally noticed Alfred was looking at him, he whined and ducked his head.

“Pl-please, Master,” he begged, shoulders shaking, “it hurts so much…make it stop…I…I need to cum…please…”

The first response he got was a hand on his cheek, lifting his face to meet Alfred’s blue-eyed gaze. As they looked at each other, the athlete sat up, causing his length to shift inside of Arthur and drawing a moan out of the smaller blond.

“Nn…please…” There were tears in his eyes and he keened pitifully. “Master…”

“Shhh, my pet,” the taller blond soothed, close enough now that his nose brushed against Arthur’s, “you’ll get to release in just a moment.”

Hope and relief came into Arthur’s expression and he managed a weak smile. “Really?”

Alfred nodded. “Really.” Using the hand he had on the punk’s cheek, he pulled Arthur forward far enough to kiss him softly. Beneath the pierced teen, his hips rocked, and Arthur broke the kiss after only a few seconds.

“Haaah…ah…c-close…please…hurts…”

“I know, baby, I know,” Alfred cooed, moving both hands to the smaller blond’s hips. “Lift up,” he commanded gently, and Arthur was quick to obey him, a whimper leaving the punk as he felt the athlete’s length slip free.

“Good boy. Now, turn around and let me take those straps off.”

He wanted to refuse. He wanted to say that the straps could wait, to demand that Alfred take off the stupid bloody cock ring that very instant so he could finally climax like he should have done so many times before now. But he didn’t, because there was no way he was going to risk losing the mercy his Master was showing him. It was torture, though, to sit there quietly while Alfred unbuckled the straps and slipped them off his arms.

“There you go.” A hand rubbed up and down his spine and Arthur arched into the touch, sighing quietly.

“Master…”

“Come here, pretty pet.”

Overly eager, Arthur turned around and crawled into the athlete’s lap, curling against Alfred’s chest in search of warmth and comfort. The bespectacled blond kissed his shoulder, reaching around the punk and, as carefully as he could, removing the cock ring.

“Nnnng….” Just having that torturous device taken off was almost enough to make Arthur release, and he buried his face in Alfred’s neck, his breathing uneven. “Please…please…”

Alfred set the ring aside and turned his attention back to the quiet pleading of his pet. The punk sounded like he might burst into tears if he refused, so the blue-eyed teen wrapped an arm around the smaller male to hold him close and sent his free hand back down between his lover’s legs. He heard Arthur gasp when he touched him, felt the pierced teen trembling with desperate need.

“You did such a good job, Arthur,” he cooed, gently gripping the hardened length and rubbing his hand up and down. “You made me feel so good. I know how sorry you are for teasing me. You’re a good boy, Arthur.”

“Nng…hah…th-thank you…M…Maaaaster!” Eyes screwed shut, Arthur clung to the larger male as his body shook with his impending climax. After being denied it so long, he was almost nervous to finally cum, but he probably would have burst into tears if Alfred suddenly changed his mind.

“You’re welcome. Now, relax, and let me take care of you, pretty pet.”

With a terse nod, Arthur pressed his face into the other teen’s neck. Right away, the hand on his dick began to pump faster, started to twist and squeeze until there was no way Arthur could resist. The punk let out several loud moans as his body squirmed against Alfred, hips rolling and grinding in a desperate play for more, more friction, more heat, more everything.

“A-ah…shit…Al…fred…!” He couldn’t keep his eyes open, couldn’t do anything but trust Alfred to hold onto him as the athlete’s thumb rubbed over his tip. That tiny shift in pressure made Arthur’s world come undone. A hoarse shout left him as his hips bucked, his seed spilling onto Alfred’s hand and both their laps. “Ohhhh fuck!”

Smiling, Alfred gently took his hand away and nuzzled his pet’s cheek affectionately. “There you go, Artie. That was nice, wasn’t it?”

There was no response, even after he waited nearly two full minutes. He wasn’t worried, though, since he could feel the tremors in Arthur’s body slowly fading away, and knew from his deep, ragged breathing that the exhaustion from his ordeal had put the punk to sleep almost immediately after his climax.

Cute, the athlete thought, taking another moment to cuddle Arthur before he carefully laid him down. His own exhaustion was only a few minutes away from claiming him, but he had enough energy to move the toys off the bed, pull down the blankets and tuck Arthur in before lying beside him. For now, they would sleep. Cleaning up would come later, and that was completely okay with him.

More sated than he’d ever been in his life, Alfred curled around his new lover’s still form and closed his eyes, sighing happily.

That damn tease, that infuriating little bastard, his sexy slut, his pretty pet…his. Finally, after all this time, Arthur Kirkland was his. It was a nice thought to drift off to.

Chapter Text

Ugh, god, the world was a terrible, terrible place. His wrists hurt, his back hurt, his hips, dick, and ass hurt. He was exhausted and utterly spent, and he really, really didn’t feel like moving.

So, with a disgruntled mutter, Arthur rolled over and shifted closer to where Alfred should have been. He’d mean to nuzzle into the athlete’s chest, maybe be hugged and cuddled so he could fall back asleep with a smile. Except the space in front of him was empty, and the edge of the bed was behind him.

It slowly dawned on him that he was alone in his bed.

Green eyes cracked open, bleary and unfocused at first, then cleared after a few groggy blinks. Just as he’d thought, his bed was empty except for him.

“Alfred?”

Sitting up despite his sore body’s protests, Arthur rubbed his face in an attempt to wake up faster then looked around the room. There were his clothes, still abandoned on the floor where they’d been dropped. But Alfred’s clothes were missing, and it wasn’t hard to notice that all the toys were gone, too.

Did he…clean up?

It was nice of him, and his job as the Master, to take care of things until his pet recovered. Only, Arthur had never told him that. They’d skipped all the figurative paperwork that came with BDSM play, so the athlete could only have done it to be nice.

Cute, the punk thought, smiling as he pushed his bangs back out of his face.

Throwing the blankets off, he moved to the edge of the bed and carefully stood to give his legs a chance to stop wobbling. Almost immediately, he felt wetness on the backs of his thighs that slowly slid downwards—Alfred’s cum. Normally, he’d have headed straight to the bathroom to shower and clean himself up, but he wanted to see where Alfred had gone, so he dug through his dresser until he found a several-sizes-too-large shirt that he usually reserved for sick days, and pulled it on over his head. The sleeves were so long only his fingertips poked out, it was long enough to cover part of his thighs, and the neckline was stretched so far that some of his shoulders and collarbone showed. It was the most comfortable shirt he owned, and he liked to think Alfred would think it was cute.

So, Arthur abandoned his room and ventured out into the apartment.

There was no sound to indicate that anyone else was here, but he knew his parents were in their bedroom, passed out from all the drinking they’d done the night before. It’d be hours still before either of them regained consciousness, and that was entirely fine with Arthur. He should have plenty of time to find Alfred and clean himself up.

Well, the bathroom door was open, so Alfred wasn’t in there. Glances told him that the bespectacled blond wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, either. Where the hell was he?

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze lowering towards the floor.

He left.

It hurt more than it should have to realize that.

I let him fuck me like that and the bastard just left.

This had never happened to him before. Waking up after one-night-stands was always a matter of getting rid of his partner so he could go about his day. But he hadn’t wanted to get rid of Alfred, not after last night.

“God damn it,” the green-eyed teen muttered, rubbing at his face again out of frustration with himself. He was such an idiot. Why had he ever thought the athlete would stick around? In this shitty dump? No, of course he wouldn’t. He’d woken up, gotten dressed, put the toys away just to be polite, then had gotten out of here as quickly as he could.

Of course.

There was no reason for Arthur to ever expect otherwise from star athlete Alfred Jones.

But it still hurt.

Arthur went back into his room and shut the door.

It was Friday. He was late for school. No, he was absent. If he went to school, then he’d run into Alfred, and he was not ready for that, not so soon after being fucked and left. He was staying home today. Besides, he needed to shower, and his bed needed similar attention. Had Alfred cleaned the toys before he put them away? Maybe. Probably not. Arthur was going to have to check. But, first, he wanted to shower. Having Alfred’s spunk on him wasn’t something he particularly wanted at the moment.

So, despite the allure of crawling back into bed and sleeping the day away, Arthur took his towel out of his closet and headed for the bathroom. He cranked the water up to full blast and turned it as hot as it would go. His shirt was abandoned on the floor, and it was then that he caught sight of his reflection in the rather dirty mirror above the sink.

He was still wearing the collar.

Anger and hurt and embarrassment welled up in him until Arthur couldn’t stand it anymore. He tugged at the buckle until it came free, so rough that he almost choked himself, and pulled the collar off as quickly as he could then dropped it as if it might bite him. Damned thing. Damn it and the bruise it had left, and the hickeys that decorated his body. There were so many, so many hickeys and bruises, and he knew without looking that his arse was black and blue. God damn it. That prick had claimed him in every way then left without a word. What sort of heartless bastard did something like that?

Before he could work himself into tears, Arthur stepped into the shower stall, shivering at the heat of the water on his skin. It burned, but he sort of liked it. This way, maybe he wouldn’t be able to feel Alfred touching him anymore.

When he was sufficiently drenched, he moved onto the task of shampooing his hair, then of scrubbing his body—it was hard not to watch the last traces of Alfred go down the drain. But Arthur was determined to get over this, and that bloody jock, so he was thorough in cleaning himself, and didn’t let himself linger when it came to making sure his body had rid itself of any foreign substances. Having leftover spunk or lube leak out onto his clothes during the day was definitely not on his to-do list.

Only once he was absolutely sure he was spotless did the punk rinse himself one more time then shut off the water. Standing there, he examined the bruises that were still darkening around his wrists, then gingerly stretched out his back and hips.

Yeah, still sore. It’d be a few days before he’d be fully recovered, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Moving a little faster now, Arthur toweled himself off, gathered his shirt and the collar, and crossed the small space between his room and the bathroom. The next step was getting dressed, though he didn’t much feel like skinnies and fishnet. The alternative was more sick day clothes—he found and dressed in sweatpants and a worn out t-shirt.

For a moment, he considered the collar. Part of him very much wanted to wear it. He loved collars and he loved the idea of being collared. But it would be exactly the wrong thing to do while he was trying to not be attached to Alfred. Being collared meant he was being claimed, that he was Alfred’s pet and no one else’s. It was frustrating to want that when he knew he shouldn’t.

Damn it.

In the end, he left the collar on his desk and focused on pulling the sheets off his bed. They all needed to be washed, which meant a trip down the street to the Laundromat, and if he was already going, then he might as well take the rest of his laundry, as well.

After the bed was stripped, the soiled linens were added to his hamper, and Arthur packed his homework into his bag. He was already skipping school, so he should at least get his homework taken care of.

Hamper and bag in hand, the pierced blond grabbed his keys and wallet and phone, slipped on some shoes, then left the apartment in favor of his car. The Laundromat wasn’t very far away, but Arthur was in no shape to walk those few blocks, especially carrying two heavy bags. So he drove, and settled as comfortably as he could with his bruised backside on one of the plastic chairs available once he’d gotten a couple of washing machines started on his clothes and bedcovers. It would be nearly an hour before they’d be ready to move to the dryers, and he could get plenty of homework done in that time.

Homework, at least, would be a good distraction.

When he returned home just over two hours later, Arthur was unsurprised to find his parents lounging on the couch. The remnants of a pizza—their breakfast—were scattered on the coffee table, and they each had a lit cigarette in hand. He would have liked to just go to his room and shut the door and not say a word to them, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. They never made it that easy.

So he was prepared to be addressed when he passed in front of the TV to move deeper into the apartment.

“Hey.”

He faltered when his mother spoke, but didn’t stop.

“How come you ain’t in school?”

“I’m not feeling well.”

“What’s that mark on your neck?” It was his father’s turn to speak, though Arthur was pretty sure the man on the couch wasn’t his biological father. Not with how much his mother slept around. “You little fag, you brought someone home. We told you not to do that shit here.”

Arthur grit his teeth but didn’t respond. Fighting with them would take energy he didn’t have at the moment. As much as he wanted to berate them for being useless pieces of shyt, he merely shrugged noncommittally and continued into his room. It was a relief to finally get the door shut and locked behind himself to drown out the sounds of whatever show they’d had on the TV.

Sighing, the blond set down his school bag then started to pull his freshly washed sheets out of the hamper. It was a matter of minutes to put his bed back together, though all the leaning and reaching was less than pleasant on his back.

Damn that git for making him arch so much.

Bed made, he took his time in putting his clothes away, then sat at his desk to finish up his homework. His stomach growled, since it was past lunch time, but he knew better than to think there would be food in the kitchen. If he wanted to eat, then he’d have to go out, and he already knew that wasn’t going to happen as long as the useless arseholes he called parents were still home.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

X

Monday

Standing at his locker, Arthur was careful to keep his wrist covered as he reached for a book on the top shelf. The last thing he needed was for someone to see the bruises and start asking questions. That was why he’d worn a scarf and a jacket, a black one with silver studs on the shoulders to keep his fellow students at bay. He didn’t want anyone getting too close to him. Not today.

It was only two class periods into the school day, and he’d already had a close call with Alfred. The jock was in several of his classes, so he’d had to hurry to escape being caught. He didn’t really think Alfred wanted to talk to him, but even if he did, Arthur wasn’t ready for it. Not after a weekend of unsuccessfully trying to get over those eyes and that smile and that body. If Alfred tied to talk to him, the punk would almost definitely break.

This being the case, he really wasn’t looking forward to P.E. class at the end of the day. Maybe he’d skip. It wasn’t like he could do much, anyway, considering how sore he still was.

Just as he was about to close his locker and head for his next class, Arthur felt a presence at his back. His first thought was that it was Gil or Tonio come to ask him where he’d been all weekend.

“I was sick,” the green-eyed blond began before the other could speak. “I’m sorry for skipping practice.”

There was no response at first, then Arthur felt his heat sink. It wasn’t Gil or Tonio.

“Arthur.”

The pierced teen spun, his books held to his chest, and started walking. “Go away, Alfred.” Leave me alone.

“Arthur!” The larger boy grabbed his arm, making him stop, though Arthur refused to look at him. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. We made a deal and now it’s over. That’s it, the end.”

Insistent, Alfred turned the other blond around to face him. “And what if I don’t want it to be over?” he asked, setting his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and trying to get the punk to look at him. “What if I’m not okay with it being the end?”

No, no, he couldn’t say that. It was cruel. The bastard was toying with him, playing with his emotions.

“You left,” Arthur said quietly, aware that they were now alone in the hall; the bell to start class would ring soon. “You didn’t say goodbye or leave a note or anything. You just left.”

“It sounds awful when you say it like that,” Alfred tried to joke, though his smile quickly faded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Arthur.”

The punk shrugged. “You didn’t. Just let it be done, Alfred. It was a good shag. It was fun. Now forget about it and move on.” He wished he could take his own advice. He really, really did. But the most he managed to do was shake Alfred’s hands off and turn to start walking again.

One step. Two. Three. Alfred’s eyes were drilling into his back. Then footsteps sounded. A hand grabbed his upper arm and pulled, forcing Arthur sideways into an empty classroom and almost making him fall—he dropped his books in order to regain his balance.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” the green-eyed student shouted as Alfred closed the door to give them some privacy. His shoulders were hunched as he glared at his scattered belongings, and there were angry tears forming under his eyes. “You don’t just grab people like that, you git! I said I don’t want to talk to you! Why should I, huh? You left! I let you fuck me and then you just left! You’re such a bastard! I can’t stand you! Just stay away from me!”

Silence followed his outburst, broken only by his uneven breathing. Damn it, he was going to cry, right in front of Alfred. Bloody fucking brilliant.

Out in the hall, the bell rang to signal the beginning of class—they were late.

Alfred hesitated for a moment before he grabbed the shorter blond and turned him around.

“Let—!” Arthur didn’t finish that command, being too surprised at suddenly finding himself in a tight hug, his face pressed into Alfred’s chest as the jock held him.

“I’m sorry.”

Arthur didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected an apology. What was he supposed to do? At a loss, he simply stood there and let Alfred hold him.

“I’m sorry,” the athlete repeated. “I’m sorry for leaving. I didn’t want to. I had to be at school, I had a game on Saturday. I…sorta hoped you’d be there.” He smiled as if mocking himself for being so stupid. “I thought I’d be able to talk to you at school on Friday, only you didn’t show. Guess that’s my fault for being so rough with you.” He was apologetic, but not sorry. “I wanted to go back and make sure you were okay, but I don’t know your address or your phone number or anything, so I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed with you.”

Hoping his voice would stay steady, Arthur swallowed thickly. “Yeah. You should have.”

His response made Alfred laugh a little, and the jock finally let him go. “You okay?” he asked, smiling, though he also looked concerned.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Slowly, Arthur lifted his chin and looked at the older boy for the first time in days. The git was even more attractive than he’d remembered.

“There they are,” Alfred teased, touching Arthur’s cheek. “I missed those big green eyes.”

With a watery smile, Arthur realized that he was near to crying again, only this time he didn’t particularly care. They’d be happy tears, after all, though there were a few things he’d rather do than cry.

Reaching out, he grabbed onto the front of Alfred’s shirt and pulled, simultaneously going up on his toes to press his lips to the jock’s. Immediately, arms snaked around his waist and he was lifted off his feet as Alfred returned the kiss.

Lips parted; breaths mixed and tongues invaded mouths. Arthur tilted his head and let out a soft moan, moving his hands up to tangle in Alfred’s hair. He wrapped his legs around the jock’s hips to pull himself closer and felt Alfred grin against his mouth. Teeth caught one of his lip rings and tugged playfully before the tongue came back to toy with the stud in Arthur’s mouth.

God, no one snogged as good as Alfred did.

But he was getting light-headed, so it wasn’t much longer before he broke the kiss and rested his head on Alfred’s shoulder.

“Damn,” the pierced blond panted, and the taller teen chuckled breathlessly. He was carried a few feet then set on the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. Lips began to caress along his jaw then down—he felt Alfred taking his scarf off and blushed just as the athlete paused.

What would he think?

“Good boy, Arthur,” Alfred purred, blue eyes locked on the collar around his pet’s neck. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but it was definitely a welcome sight.

“Master,” the smaller teen whimpered, fighting back a smile. In all honesty, he’d tried really hard to talk himself out of wearing the collar, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Now he was glad he’d given in. In fact, he was pretty sure it would let him turn this whole thing in his favor. He just had to play his cards right.

Ducking his head, Arthur hugged himself and whined pitifully. “Why did Master leave me?” he asked, voice small and unsure to play up his role as the victim. “Was I bad? I tried to be good…”

“No, baby,” Alfred crooned, easily falling back into the game. “You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He smiled, cupping the smaller blond’s face in his hands and lifting so he could see his pet’s eyes. “I couldn’t ask for a better pet.”

Arthur sniffled. “Really?”

“Really.” Still smiling, the jock leaned down and kissed the punk’s nose, then lifted Arthur’s chin just a little more and kissed him firmly.

Timid, the tattooed student pressed closer, his tongue slipping out to shyly taste his Master’s lips before he drew away and looked down as if embarrassed.

Alfred nuzzled his companion’s cheek, wrapping Arthur in a loose hug. “What is it?”

“I thought Master didn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s not true.”

“But Master left.”

“I had to.”

“But you didn’t say goodbye, or tell me you would come back, or anything.” His voice thickened as he talked and his eyes welled up with tears—crying on command had never been so useful. Arthur choked back a sob just to make it more realistic, though there was no denying that he’d had these exact feelings all weekend and just hadn’t expressed them until now. “I thought Master abandoned me.”

“No, no,” Alfred soothed, gathering Arthur into his arms and hugging him close, “I would never abandon a pet as sweet as you.”

Arthur nuzzled into the larger blond’s chest. “Master promises?” he asked softly, voice muffled.

“Master promises. Now, give me a kiss.”

Obedient, Arthur sat up and kissed the athlete, smiling as he did. “Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome. However,” a sly look came into Alfred’s eyes, his eyebrows quirking as he smirked, “you were a bit naughty earlier when you ignored me then yelled at me.”

Those words sank in and Arthur was quick to pull away, a whine escaping him. “No, Master, no punishment,” he pleaded, fearing what that would do to his still-recovering body.

Alfred stroked the punk’s cheek with his thumb. “But you misbehaved. You were rude and called me a bastard.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Arthur whimpered, curling protectively, though he didn’t dare pull away from his Master’s touch. “I only said it because I was scared that Master didn’t want me anymore.”

“Pets that bite are punished, no matter why they bite.”

“But it wasn’t my fault!”

“Hush.” Alfred was stern. “You did misbehave, but I’ll let it go just this once. Only,” he raised an eyebrow to make sure Arthur was paying attention, “because it was mean of me to scare you like that.”

Relief had the green-tipped-blond nearly going limp. “Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome. But there is one other problem.”

Problem?

The shorter teen let his confusion show on his face, though he didn’t ask what Alfred was talking about. His small frown was met with a tranquil smile.

Alfred shifted, his arm moving a few inches to the side—Arthur gasped, back arching, then whimpered because suddenly the athlete had hold of his groin and he hadn’t realized he was hard until this moment.

Fuck.

“What are we going to do about this, Arthur?” the bespectacled blond purred, rubbing gently.

Nails digging into the wood of the desk to keep himself in line, Arthur wished he could close his legs and knew Alfred would never let him. The athlete was already standing between his knees.

This was embarrassing as hell. Being groped at school, skipping class to hook up in an empty classroom, wasn’t something he’d ever planned on doing. It wasn’t his particular kink. What if someone walked in? What time was it? They were skipping class. Someone was bound to notice.

“We—we can’t do this now,” he protested, nervously glancing towards the door. “Someone’ll see…”

“I don’t care.”

Fear of being walked in on made Arthur hesitate for a moment longer, then he signed resignedly. “Okay,” he gave in, relaxing so that his legs fell open, and leaning back on his hands to give Alfred access to the majority of his body.

The athlete grinned, obviously pleased, and ran his hands up Arthur’s jean-clad thighs as he bent forward and kissed the pierced blond. “Good boy.”

It was a husky whisper that made Arthur shiver, his green eyes hooded and his lower lip caught between his teeth. Alfred’s hands were rubbing at his hips and thighs, just enough pressure and friction to cause tingling pleasure in the punk’s groin. He could feel his jeans getting tighter, though most of his attention was on the mouth that had found its way to the corner of his jaw. Bites pulled small gasps from him; he’d have gripped Alfred’s hair if doing so wouldn’t have made him fall backwards. Instead, he settled for tilting his head back and letting only small, breathy sounds escape him as the bespectacled teen nipped and sucked to create a new hickey on his pet, claiming him all over again.

Eventually, Alfred drew away so he could examine the mark, then licked it by way of showing his satisfaction. When he straightened, Arthur watched him, his face flushed and his pulse quickened. It was difficult not to shift against the desk to try to relieve the tightness around his still-hardening length.

“We need to make sure you keep your voice down,” the athlete mused, looking Arthur up and down in search of inspiration. Then he grinned, took hold of the shorter blond’s shirt, and lifted the hem towards his pet’s mouth. “Bite this.”

Knowing full well now what Alfred meant to do, Arthur obediently opened his mouth and caught the fabric of his shirt in his teeth, holding it up to bare his chest and stomach.

“Perfect.” Alfred’s hands went to the Brit’s belt, pulled the buckle loose then slid it free, and moved onto the button and zipper of those skinny jeans that made his pet’s ass look so tempting.

Arthur let a heavy breath out through his nose, his shoulders sagging slightly at the release of most of the pressure on his cock. Then he watched, tense with anticipation, as his jeans and pants—not a thong, because his backside was still too tender to rub against denim—were pulled down just enough that his length was given freedom. The hungry way Alfred looked at him put a dark blush on his cheeks, and he dug his teeth a little harder into his shirt.

That look alone told him he wouldn’t be given any mercy.

“You’re cute all over,” Alfred cooed, stroking one finger up and down the punk’s erection as if petting him. “Just adorable.”

If he’d been able to talk, Arthur would have told the taller blond to go fuck himself. That, of course, would have gotten him in trouble, and even if Alfred decided to let him say it, the athlete would undoubtedly have turned it around on him. Saying something like that would only have gotten him bent over the desk for a thorough fuck before their next class.

Honestly, Arthur wasn’t sure if he’d survive sex at the moment. Not that he was given much time to think about it.

“Hn!” Breath catching in his throat, the punk tensed when that teasing finger was replaced by a firm grip, Alfred’s hand holding him tightly as he pumped once to make sure Arthur was fully erect. The friction made him keen.

Smirk once more in place, Alfred leaned close to the smaller male as he palmed his pet’s cock. “You’re hard as a rock, Artie. Is a quickie going to be enough for you?”

Arthur struggled to keep his eyes open, air hissing between his teeth with every little movement of Alfred’s hand. What was he supposed to say? Yes? That probably wasn’t the answer Arthur wanted to hear, but saying no would probably lead to sex and as much as he liked that idea, he knew he wouldn’t make it. So he shrugged, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up as his Master continued to touch him in that infuriatingly patient way.

“You don’t know?” Lips brushed against his cheek then down towards his neck—Arthur shuddered when Alfred licked along the edge of the collar. “We are at school…so I guess you’ll have to be satisfied. At least for now.” His hand squeezed and twisted, dragging a moan out of the smaller male.

Fuuuuck you, git.

It wouldn’t surprise him to find a tear in his shirt from his teeth by the end of this.

Seeing the punk so breathless and tense already had Alfred practically purring. “Remember to keep your voice down, my pet. We wouldn’t want someone walking in and seeing you like this.” He grinned, moving his hand just a little faster against Arthur’s length. “We’d probably get in trouble, but I don’t care about that. I just don’t want anyone else to see how sexy my personal little slut is.”

If he’d have been able to breathe properly, that would have made Arthur whimper. The sound came out in pieces, muffled by his shirt, and he was glad he was biting into fabric instead of his lip. Still, the jock was taking things much too slowly for his liking. What the hell was Alfred thinking? They were in school! He shouldn’t be dragging it out and teasing like this!

Just get me off so we can go to class, he pleaded silently, hoping the look on his face was enough to convey that message.

But Alfred wasn’t looking at him, not specifically at his face, at least. The athlete had stepped back enough that he could get a better of view of what his touches were doing to the green-eyed blond he’d perched on the teacher’s desk. He wanted to see every pleasured, tortured expression on the punk’s face, watch his chest heave with labored breaths, every tremor that ran through his body and the way his hips twitched and jerked with need. Everything Arthur did was perfect and he wanted it all.

It still stunned him a little to think someone like Arthur was his for the taking, that the pierced teen wanted to be claimed by him. And wearing that collar to school? That was the sexiest fucking thing Alfred had ever seen. All he wanted right now was to work every sound possible from the punk, to do whatever it took to ensure that Arthur would never walk away from him like that again, and he hated that they were at school so he couldn’t. Jerking him off in a classroom was just going to have to be good enough until he was finished with practice tonight.

Refocusing on the boy he was touching so intimately, Alfred moved in close again so he could lean down and nip at Arthur’s ear, then smiled when the punk shivered and whined. “Don’t worry, baby,” he purred, nuzzling the pale teen’s cheek, “I’ll let you cum soon.” Tongue slipping out, he licked one of the rings through his helix.

Oh god, oh god.

Arthur felt it when his body started to get close to giving in. He was burning, much too hot to be wearing clothes, especially a leather jacket. His face was beet red, and sweat was darkening his hair; he could feel it dripping down his back, too. All he could think was that he was too hot, too tight in his belly, too short of breath.

Breathe, he had to remind himself, not that it did him any good. There just wasn’t enough air coming in through his nose to keep up. And, hell, his stomach was so tight. So bloody tight. IT was going to give soon. It had to. He couldn’t take this for much longer.

So many sounds wanted out of him and holding them all back was impossible, but he at least managed to keep them muffled and quiet, some were broken and choked. None of them should have been loud enough to be overheard through the door.

“You make such cute faces.”

His hips twitched upwards and Arthur’s eyes rolled towards the back of his skull. “Nnn…”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

It registered, slowly, that the friction of Alfred’s hand against his dick wasn’t as rough as before. Even more slowly, Arthur realized it was slick now because he’d started leaking precum, and the jock was using it as lube so he could pump faster. And shit he was thumbing the tip, pressing on it so that Arthur couldn’t stop the whine that built up in his throat, couldn’t keep from bucking his hips up in desperation. “Hnng!”

Shit fuck arse bloody wanker!

“Cute.”

“Nn…nn…” He was panting hard and light-headed, his nails digging into the desk and his heels pressed against the side to give him leverage so he could keep moving his hips with Alfred’s hand. There wasn’t a lax muscle in his body—every single one of them was straining towards getting rid of the pressure in his groin. It had to go. It was too much.

“I know you’re close, baby,” Alfred cooed, mouth by the punk’s ear again. “I know you want it.”

Arthur gave an insistent buck of his hips, moaning a little louder than before to get his point across.

Infuriatingly, the jock chuckled. “Yeah, you want it bad.”

If he was forced to wait much longer for his release, Arthur thought he might start crying. That blue-eye bastard had done this to him, and now he was taking his sweet time to finish it! Arthur could have punched him. Or, at least he would have if he could’ve gotten enough control back to move his arms, but that was unlikely. This close to climaxing, it was nearly impossible.

So he ground his teeth into the fabric of his shirt and squeezed his eyes shut against the sensations racking his body. The darkness of his eyelids should have been a sanctuary, but instead it just made it harder to focus. His thoughts leapt from how hot he was to Alfred sucking on his ear to how tight his stomach felt to the jock’s hand on him.

Rubbing, squeezing, every pass back and forth inching him closer and closer to the orgasm he was more than ready to beg for.

“Hnn…nn…!” There was no keeping quiet anymore. If someone happened to walk by, they’d almost definitely hear what was going on. And Arthur didn’t give a fuck. “Mmm!”

Slowly, Alfred let the punk’s ear slip between his teeth. “That’s enough.”

A second later, Arthur’s eyes flew open and his stomach arched sharply as a loud groan forced its way past clenched teeth.

Mother of fuck!

Surprised by the sudden increase in the speed and force with which Alfred moved his hand, there was little Arthur could do against it but hold onto the desk and roll his hips desperately.

Jesus! Jesus! Jesus…!

“Fuuuuck!” The word came out in a breathless, high-pitched whine as Arthur’s hips bucked and stuttered, his body finally giving in. His eyes were open as far as they could go but he still couldn’t see anything but burning white, and his body was numb to everything but his own pleasure and the heat of it all.

“Good boy.”

His Master’s words barely registered, and once he started to regain some sense of feeling, he wondered vaguely if the bespectacled blond had actually spoken.

Inch by trembling inch, the tension went out of him until the punk’s hands slid and he fell back against the desk. Luckily, it was a slow enough movement that he didn’t hit his head. Not that he would have felt it. He could barely even feel Alfred cleaning him up—had he gotten tissues from somewhere? It seemed possible—then fixing his clothes. The athlete was such a considerate Master.

“Thanks,” Arthur sighed, managing a tired smile as he lay on the desk, his legs dangling over the side. As tense as he’d been, he was completely limp now. Every ounce of energy had left him.

Warmth surrounded the pierced blond and he cracked one eye open to find Alfred leaning over the desk to kiss his forehead. “You’re welcome.”

The punk let out a happy hum. “We should go to class.”

“We can wait ‘til next period starts,” Alfred pointed out, his tone firm enough that Arthur understood there would be no arguing. “Besides, if we walk in late together, with you very obviously still recovering from an orgasm, everyone’ll know what we were doing.”

Arthur’s smile faded. “…so?”

One of the bespectacled blond’s eyebrows lifted. “You want our entire school to know I just jerked you off instead of going to class?”

“I wouldn’t particularly mind.” That was a lie, of course. He just didn’t want to sound embarrassed about it, and he was hoping for it to lead somewhere. “Unless you don’t want anyone to know we’re fuck-buddies.”

Immediately, a frown took of Alfred’s face and he straightened to put a little distance between them. “Fuck-buddies?”

Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Arthur shrugged out of his jacket to make it easier for his body to cool down. “Yeah. What else would we be?”

“Dating.” Alfred said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Arthur fought back a wide smile.

“Are you asking me on a date, Jones?” he teased to cover up the sudden giddiness he felt.

Alfred put a hand on the desk and leaned forward so his nose nearly brushed against the punk’s. “Yeah, I am. So, whaddya say, Kirkland? Go out with me. Be my boyfriend—screw what anyone else thinks—and be the cutest,” he kissed one side of Arthur’s neck, “sexiest,” a kiss on the other side, “most irresistible lover,” their eyes met for a brief instant before Alfred kissed the shorter blond, “I could ever want.” Another kiss, and this time when the jock began to pull away, Arthur leaned forward to make it last longer. Then he grinned, tongue sticking out to show off the stud.

“Whatever you say, Master.”