Steve kneels in the middle of the floor alone and shivering. Danny has the air conditioner cranked down to its lowest setting and his skin is prickling with goosebumps. He waits with his head bowed and hands clasped loosely behind his back. His eyes are closed—they have no need of blindfolds. All Danny has to use is that soft, commanding voice he reserves only for Steve at times like these. A simple, “Close your eyes and keep them closed,” is all Steve needs to hear.
The room around him is dark anyway, he doesn’t need his eyes open to know that. He’d watched Danny pull the newer, heavier drapes shut against the bright midday sun. The only light comes from the flickering flames of the candles set around the room, painting just the palest of orange glow on the backs of his closed eyelids. Depending on the shift in the air currents, once in a while he gets a tiny lick of warmth from the burning wicks. Those small touches of heat stroke his skin in the lightest of caresses and have him shivering more, only to tense his muscles to make himself stop.
The candles perfume the air with the musky scent of patchouli tempered with the barest hint of lavender. The lavender is to calm him, keep him relaxed; the patchouli is to quicken his blood and lend to his anticipation. To feed his anxiously awaiting hunger while he waits alone in the cool blackness around him.
Music is playing, throbbing from the stereo speakers and Steve leans into the sound. The rhythm of the violins, so much like hitching breath and the pounding of the drums, that of a thumping heartbeat. He knows the sound very well, he identifies with it and without being aware he sways with just the slightest movements to the sounds permeating the air.
The most important piece though is the collar around his neck. The thick, black leather is warm and supple against his skin; the three O rings cool against the flesh where they touch him. It’s new and Steve can smell the rich scent of the leather, heavy in his nostrils and mingling with the lighter odors of the lavender-patchouli. The contrast of sensations has him shivering anew, the rings making faint, metallic ting sounds with the motion.
Danny has left him here for he doesn’t know how long. He lit the candles, started the CD and stroked a hand down the back of Steve’s neck. “Wait here,” he’d said, voice rolling across Steve’s already chilled shoulders in a warm puff of breath. Each ting of the metal hardware on his collar is like the tick of a clock. Steve trembles, not from the cold this time, but from tense anticipation. He’s waiting and ready, muscles growing stiff from being held in the same position so long. He dares not move though; to disappoint Danny is an unthinkable thing for Steve. So, he waits, made impatient with longing and tension made that much sharper by desire.
The music and the heavy curtains almost block out sound completely, which he’s sure Danny intended. They fell into this almost by accident, but now it’s their near-constant, both of them finding a certain kind of comfort in this. For Steve, it’s the complete relinquishment of control, for Danny, he thinks, it’s just the joy of watching Steve let himself go. It works, that’s what counts and it does indeed work very well.
Steve starts and shudders all over when Danny’s hand, warm, God, so warm, lands on the nape of his cold neck. Steve gasps and arches into the touch. Danny’s been outside, there’s no other reason he should be so warm. Danny’s skin almost burns it’s so heated against Steve’s chilly skin. He feels the hairs on the back of his neck and arms prickle with more gooseflesh as he bites his lip and tries not to shudder again as Danny strokes his hand all the way down his back, following the line of his spine.
Danny smells like sunlight and clean sweat as he leans in to nuzzle the side of Steve’s neck, just a ghost of a touch that leaves Steve wanting more.
“Are you cold?” Danny murmurs in his ear, tongue flicking out to trace the curve of it. His voice when they do this loses all trace of playful humor; there is no cockiness or barbed, smart ass remark waiting on his tongue. It’s low, collected and whispery, almost sinister, but not quite because there’s enough warmth in it reserved for Steve.
Like this, Danny’s voice never even hints at what he’s thinking.
Steve swallows and nods, not sure if he should speak or not. Danny makes a soft humming sound and lets his fingers trace along Steve’s ribs, the touch so light it almost tickles. He wants to squirm a little to get away from that ghosting touch. Then Danny digs his fingers in a little harder and scrapes his neatly clipped nails down his side. Trails of stinging warmth are left in their wake and Steve’s mouth falls open to pant lightly.
“I want you on your hands and knees, head down,” Danny says, still whispering into Steve’s ear. The words are like raw silk brushing against his sensitized skin. Steve doesn’t move yet though, he waits for the words.
“Do it,” Danny says, a touch of commanding growl in his voice.
Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. Those two words are all he needs to have him unclasping his hands from behind his back and stretching his arms out to brace his weight on his palms. Danny strokes the skin of his back, petting him until Steve shivers again and not from the cold. He moans once and Danny smacks his hip for it.
“Don’t make a sound,” he says and Steve swallows. He can hear the click in his throat and feel the leather of his collar pressing against his Adam’s apple with the motion.
There’s a ring on the back of the collar and he feels Danny hook a finger in it just before he tugs, drawing Steve’s head back. His neck is bent at a rough angle like that, but it doesn’t hurt. He can feel Danny’s eyes on him as he leans back, waiting. Danny makes another of those humming sounds of pleasure and then he crushes his mouth to Steve’s. The kiss is rough and quick, a flick of his tongue inside Steve’s mouth when he opens it at Danny’s nip. He licks out of his mouth and runs his tongue over the stinging place before letting Steve go again. Without needing to hear it, he drops his head back down between his shoulders and breathes slowly through his nose, willing his heartbeat to slow down.
Danny moves away after that, leaving Steve even more on edge and wound up. He wants to ask him to come back; wants to open his eyes to see him, but he does none of that. He merely waits as he was told to do. He’s been hard for a while now, just sitting… waiting… anticipating, but until Danny came back he wasn’t really aware of his arousal. He is now and it’s Danny’s presence; the way he manipulates his body, assaulting it with varied sensations that has Steve swallowing again. He’s on edge, waiting for what comes next; wondering, trying to guess ahead, but he has no real idea.
When he comes back, Steve doesn’t hear him, but he’s aware of the heat radiating from Danny’s body where he stands beside him. “Are you still cold?” Danny asks.
Steve nods and Danny says, “Good.”
The first hot splash of wax on the knob of bone at the top of his spine makes Steve jerk in surprise. He almost cries out from the shock of it, but he chokes it down. That surprise is quick to fade though and he has to bite his lip from moaning at the residual searing pleasure of it. He tastes blood in his mouth and shudders all over, fingers clenching in the fabric of the area rug he’s on. Danny trails hot, scented wax all the way down his back in a zigzag pattern. Hot dollops of it splatter on Steve’s ass cheeks and he arches again. His body is alight with hot and cold and pain that bleeds into slow, pulsing waves of pleasure.
Danny waits for the wax to harden before he slowly peels it off. It stings as Danny pulls it away and then runs the pad of his thumb over the reddened, smarting marks. He twists it against his red skin, digging in and irritating the scalded places even more. Steve breathes deeply through his nose in short, sharp inhalations. His breath hitches in his chest with each shaking exhalation as Danny slowly removes all of the wax. By the time he’s done, thumb rubbing through the oil left behind from the removal Steve’s not just shivering, he’s shaking, breath gasping and catching in his throat.
His back and ass cheeks are throb-burning from the wax and Danny irritating the mild injuries with his rough stroking. The song is different now, he’s barely been aware of the music thumping from the stereo, but Danny must’ve turned it up. It has a low, pulsing bass line that vibrates inside his chest. The man’s voice is low and raw, crawling over his twitching skin like a physical touch.
He can smell the leather of his collar even more as he begins to sweat despite the coldness of the room. It sinks into the buttery black and warms it even more. It mingles with the odor of the candles and creates a heady scent. Above all of that is Danny’s sunshine scent and that’s what Steve truly focuses on, sucking it deep into his lungs and trying not to moan.
He’s so lost in the sensations that he loses track of what Danny’s doing, so when he takes hold of Steve’s left ankle, he’s startled yet again. That only adds to his tension and he strains his ears over the roar of the music to hear anything, but it’s a futile effort. Danny only touches him just enough to do what he intends, never enough to give anything away. Danny pushes his leg out some, enough that he can feel the slightest bit of tension pulling at his inner thighs. He feels the cold touch of more leather on that ankle next and holds still as Danny buckles him into the cuff. His next leg follows suit. By the time Danny is done, his legs are spread wide and the muscles in his thighs are quivering with the gentle strain.
Laying over his back, his shirt scratchy-soft against Steve’s naked skin, Danny whispers, “Spreader bar,” and Steve understands then.
He doesn’t know exactly what a spreader bar is, this is his first experience with one, but the name and the fact he can’t close his legs is pretty self-explanatory. He’s spread open in front of Danny and there’s no way for him to avoid it even if he wanted to. It sends a jolt of want straight through him and he has to grit his teeth again. He’s naked and vulnerable, blind because he will not open his eyes; totally at Danny’s mercy like this. The thought of rolling over and using his hands to get free of the spreader bar doesn’t even occur to him. Steve is in Danny’s hands and he’s happy in them; safe and content to let Danny do as he will.
Only Danny can do this to him. Only Danny is allowed to do this to him.
It is only Danny that Steve wants to do this to him.
Danny takes his warmth away from Steve’s back and the cold air washes over him again. It covers him and he makes a strained, barely suppressed, sound of want low in the back of his throat. He makes himself stay still and silent though as he waits for Danny’s next move.
His amount of self-control is admirable when it comes to this. He can take Steve to the brink and back again as many times as he wants before he ever takes his own pleasure. Danny can reduce him to a quivering, moaning wreck before he ever does anything more than touch and tease and push Steve as far as he can go, which he seems to know better than Steve himself knows. It’s a scary and exhilarating thought that someone can know him that well and that he, in turn, can trust someone that much.
He feels Danny’s warm breath on his left ass cheek just before he nips it. It’s a quick, sharp pinch of teeth that makes Steve rock forward a little bit on his hands. Then Danny actually bites down hard enough that Steve knows there will be a bruise there later. Every time he sits down or shifts in his seat, he will feel it. It sends a dirty, delicious thrill through him to know that. He will wear the bruise for days and no one but he and Danny will know it’s there.
Danny licks over the bite mark once and then sucks the aching flesh into his mouth, drawing at it and sending even more shockwaves of hurting pleasure through him. Steve’s breath hitches in his chest and he wants to moan, but Danny said he has to be quiet, so he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes the sharp salt-iron of blood in his mouth. He’s still drawing at the bite on Steve’s ass cheek when he presses a lube-slicked finger into Steve.
The lack of sight and being unable to hear anything but the throb of music has left Steve a livewire of nerves and sensation. That one touch has him bowing his back and trying to spread his legs even more than they already are. They don’t budge though and he settles for rocking back on the finger inside of him. He can feel Danny’s pleased chuckle humming through his skin just before he releases him.
Pressing another finger inside to go with the first, Danny curves them and brushes Steve’s prostate. His mouth falls open and he almost cries out when Danny leaves his fingers there, stroking and pressing at that spot inside of him. The pleasure pulls the urge to make noise through him like razor wire along his nerves and it seems to only make him more sensitive to what’s being done to his body. When a third finger slides in along the other two, Danny presses against the back of his hand and thrusts against Steve’s ass, pressing his fingers hard and deep inside of him. Steve bucks and shudders, mouth open in a wordless, soundless cry as he swallows all of the sounds he’s not allowed to make down.
Danny leans over him again, hips pressing his fingers deep inside of Steve as he rolls their tips against his prostate with unrelenting pressure. Steve’s squirming and panting, breath catching on gasps and swallowed back moan-cries. Then he growls, “Fuck yourself on my fingers. I want to watch you.”
Steve feels the flush spreading across his cheeks, down his neck and over his chest at the words. It once again occurs to him that his legs are spread wide open and Danny can see everything. More of that sick, dirty-hot want curls through him like the licking flame of one of the many candles lit in the room and he rocks back on Danny’s fingers. Danny moves away from him after that first movement. Steve can just feel the heat of his body radiating against his ass and the backs of his thighs. He really is watching Steve fuck himself on the three fingers buried inside of him.
His movements are slow, tentative at first, but he gradually picks up a rhythm until he’s moving smoothly on Danny’s fingers. He feels the thick, wet drizzle of more lube being squeezed onto Danny’s fingers and running down the crack of his ass to keep things easy. He starts to move faster and faster the best that the spreader bar will allow until he’s slamming his ass back against Danny’s fingers, grinding against them each time he fully takes them in. He loses himself in the rhythm, in the way that Danny does nothing more than move his fingertips to stroke Steve’s prostate with each backwards thrust, making his skin jump and muscles tremble. The rest of the work he does on his own.
Eventually, Steve becomes aware of a lewd smacking sound as he works his hips. He can barely make it out over the music, but it’s there and he knows it’s the sound of him fucking Danny’s fingers. That makes him whimper before he can stop the sound from escaping. He bites his lip, tasting blood there as well, but it’s too late, he’s made a sound and just like that, Danny withdraws his fingers completely.
Steve almost whines at the loss; pleasure a sick, tense ball in the pit of his stomach.
“What did I say?” Danny asks, voice as cool and collected as it was when they first started this.
All the same, Steve hangs his head even more and feels like he’s done something very bad. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”
Steve nods, ashamed of himself for disappointing Danny in such a way.
“That’s what I thought I said,” Danny replies calmly and then tsks softly in Steve’s ear. He doesn’t know when he moved, but he has, he’s right there beside his head now and Steve almost opens his eyes, wanting Danny to see the apology in them at least, but he doesn’t—he won’t.
Still, that slithering ball of pleasure made of want and need is drawn tight inside of him. He’s balanced right on the edge and it hurts.
“Please,” Steve whispers. The word comes out dry and cracked, rough around the edges. “I’m sorry.”
“Please what?” Danny inquires and leans even closer to lick the corner of Steve’s mouth.
Steve’s talking, but he’s let it go this far and this is where he starts to get close to his limit with this particular kind of play and Danny knows it. To push him much farther with a scene like this is possibly taking it too far. He’s treading a very fine line, but he knows where this particular sidewalk ends, too. For now anyway, he thinks that with time they can stretch it out even further and they both look forward to that day, he knows.
“Please,” Steve repeats. It’s all he can say. He’s shaking all over, fingers clenching and releasing in the plush area rug as he burrows his fingers into it and holds on, trying to find some kind of anchor. “Please, Danny.”
The only time Steve ever sounds like he does now is when they do this and Danny relishes it. And he cherishes it because this is for him and him alone. He could never abuse so much trust he thinks as he cups Steve’s cheek in his hand and tilts his bowed head up. Steve leans into the touch and nuzzles his palm with a soft sound of want and pleading.
“Open your eyes,” Danny breathes against Steve’s parted lips as he sucks in harsh breaths.
It takes a moment, but Steve’s eyes finally flutter open and he stares back at Danny. The grey of his irises are swallowed up by his pupils, making them look black in the already dim light. He stretches his neck out and Danny watches how the stainless steel accents of the collar gleam and spark, looking warm in the candle-glow.
He strokes Steve’s bottom lip and Steve leans into him, pressing his forehead to Danny’s as he closes his eyes again, swallowing thickly. Danny presses a soft kiss to Steve’s bitten lips and flicks his tongue out. He teases Steve into following him until they’re licking each other’s tongues with soft swipes. Then Danny draws the tip of Steve’s into his mouth and sucks gently at it. Steve moans into the kiss and Danny breaks it as he runs his fingers through Steve’s smooth hair, feeling the strands spread out and then part beneath his caress.
Steve gives into everything he does even though he’s starting to quake with want and that’s what Danny’s been looking for. He was close to his brink, but now he’s at it and he’d let Danny keep going until he flew apart at the seams. He won’t do that to him, that’s crossing a line into dangerous territory and so Danny takes his hand away from Steve and presses one last kiss to his neck above the black line the collar cuts across his tanned skin. Then he moves away.
He hears Steve’s strangled whimper and knows he thinks he’s leaving him again to wait in the cold and dark. “Shh,” Danny says, breathing the word against his lower back as he strokes down his hip to soothe the trembling there.
Then he rises to finally undress himself. He doesn’t dally, but he still takes a moment to look down at Steve all the same. The way his skin shines in the candlelight, made velvet-satin shiny looking from the fine sheen of sweat covering him. Steve’s skin gleams even brighter than the metal on his collar does and it is a fine sight to see.
Danny lowers himself back to his knees behind Steve and slicks himself with lube hastily. Steve’s making soft, almost distressed sounds by this point, but they’re still laced with hunger. It’s times like these Danny is glad they got themselves tested for STDs and hepatitis because even a thin sheath of latex to take away from the feeling of Steve around his cock seems wrong at this juncture.
He kisses Steve’s back once more and then grasps the base of his cock to slowly guide it inside of Steve. He’s stretched him enough already that he could just slam into him if he wanted to, but he likes watching the twitch and roll of the muscles in Steve’s back this way. And he’s found that Steve likes it better when he does it like this, even this far into the end-zone. After that though he isn’t slow, his own desire is making his heart slam into his ribcage hard enough that he swears it will break through them and Steve’s a bundle of pent up desire and in need of release.
Danny snaps his hips, rocking Steve forward as he slides one hand up his back while the other grips his hip. He pushes gently until Steve leans down even more. He crosses his arms beneath his head and rests his forehead on them as Danny fucks him even harder. The sounds coming from his mouth are filthy and urgent, sharp cries breaking into loud moans as he works his hips into Danny’s thrusts.
Steve arches into the pounding thrusts echoing through his body, mouth open and gasping as Danny fucks him. He pushes back against him, asking for more, harder and Danny gives him what he wants. He moans and cries out, the sounds merging into whimpers and whines only to crack on a cry close enough to a scream. That aching knot of pleasure in his stomach grows into a thunderhead that will leave him wrecked with pleasure when it breaks and he knows it. He wants it.
When it does snap through him, Steve makes a strangled, crying sound that rasps into a sob-like noise. It hits him hard and doesn’t let up until he’s moaning helplessly into his forearms, abdominal muscles clenching and releasing so hard they’re left feeling sore after the initial onslaught. The aftershocks aren’t all that dull even and Steve’s panting, wrung out and exhausted, floating somewhere far away in his head as it eats him up and then eclipses his consciousness for a little while.
Danny’s own orgasm follows soon after and he presses his forehead between Steve’s sweaty, wax-reddened shoulders and moans into his skin. When he comes inside of him, Steve bucks and cries out again, the sound a crackling, raw rasp of sound.
After that time seems to slow down and then stop completely. Steve is aware and yet unaware of Danny moving away from him. He knows when he takes the spreader bar off his ankles and gently eases him down to lay on the rug. Then he disappears for a little while again and Steve fades in and out like bad radio reception, riding the high.
Somewhere along the way, he comes back though and Steve knew that he would. He moves around the room, turning off the stereo and blowing out the candles. Then there’s the soft feel of a warm washcloth cleaning him off and Steve relaxes into that kind touch even more, drifting out on ocean waves of the bluest blue in his mind’s eye. Then Danny disappears again and Steve, even in his current state, wants him to come back and stay put. He likes Danny close to him after this kind of thing, he craves it even.
Soon his silent want is answered and Danny curls up beside him. He pulls a blanket over them before drawing Steve close to his chest. “You did good,” he says, voice soft and gentle; pleased. He lays back with Steve in his arms, kisses his temple and strokes his back and shoulders, waiting for him to come down.
Steve finally opens his eyes and Danny’s smile is the first thing he sees. He returns it with a lopsided, kind of spacey one of his own. “Hey,” Danny says. He reaches to take the collar off, Steve can feel his fingers on the buckle and he shakes his head “no”.
“Leave it for now,” Steve says and reaches back to take Danny’s hand away from it.
“Yeah?” Danny asks and he sounds a little surprised to his own ears.
“Yeah,” Steve says back. He moves in closer to Danny still, tucking his head under his chin and wrapping his arms around him.
Like this he can have this and never until he met Danny had Steve ever even wanted it; hell, he’d never even really thought about it past the mildest of flirtations on the outskirts of this realm. With Danny it’s okay; it’s safe to let go with him. As he closes his eyes again, Steve realizes that he is honest-to-God content here like this. He’s exhausted, too, worn out to his very core and in need of a long nap.
Danny understands that and instead of trying to get Steve up and into the bed, he just snugs the blanket around them tighter. He listens to Steve’s breath getting deeper and evening out while he strokes the warm leather of the collar, a small, happy smile on his face.