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"Hey, Feitan?"

Feitan doesn't look up from his book, just waits for Shalnark to continue.

"Do you wanna be on top tonight? Like, for real?"

It's an unexpected question. No matter what Feitan thinks he wants going into their little sessions, he always ends up relenting to Shalnark for reasons he cannot fathom. He just has this... way of turning the tables on him, every time.

"You're not allowed to get mushy," Feitan says; it's always when Shalnark gets all affectionate with him that things turn, he knows that much.

"Well, you're in charge tonight, so I guess you can make the rules. No mush," Shalnark amicably agrees. "Anything else I should know?"

Feitan stands now, his book forgotten on the end table, and walks up to face Shalnark. He's leaning over the island in his kitchen, so they're able to be at eye level.

"You need to actually submit," he says. He knows Shalnark knows what he means, especially given the way his expression gets a little serious at that.

"Okay. I won't try to take control back at all. What else?"

Feitan can't think of anything else, but he pretends to be taking mercy on him.

"I guess that's enough," he says. Shalnark's face brightens again.

"So I just have to be a good boy, right?"

Oh, the fool. With that, he just reminded Feitan about his whole praise thing. Whenever Feitan would try to take advantage of it, Shalnark would stop holding back and end the power game. This time, though, he won't be able to. Now he's excited to see exactly how affected he'll get.

"You have to behave the whole time. Don't be a brat, either."

"Hey, come on! You have to give me something, at least!"

"I thought you were going to be a good boy?"

It's so subtle, almost imperceptible, but that gets to Shalnark. He can say it himself without getting affected, but as soon as Feitan calls him that even jokingly, it's like he's cornering him without even needing to do anything physically. Nobody has ever gotten away unscathed after cornering Shalnark, but Feitan has a free pass tonight.

"... Jeez, fine. I won't even pretend to complain, alright?" he promises. Feitan just stares at him-- he can tell he's still trying to shake that feeling off. Hell, he hardly even did anything. Finally getting to break Shalnark will be fun.


It's not like it's unusual for Feitan to be physically on top of Shalnark. Even before they were together, they ended up in positions like this that, in hindsight, seemed to make Shalnark unusually tense. Feitan didn't suspect a thing for the longest time, but everything suddenly made sense once he figured out how Shalnark felt.

This time, though, there will be no last minute role reversal. That is, unless Shalnark decides to be a bastard and chicken out. Feitan steels himself for that possibility, keeping in mind that he'll need to ignore any attempts to swap their roles this time, no matter how difficult Shalnark tends to make it.

Shalnark opens his mouth before deciding better of it a few times, and Feitan knows he's just going to complain that he's been teasing him for too long if he prompts him to speak. He does anyway, but the response he gets is unexpected.

"Will you please make me scream?"

His tone is... well, submissive, and it's so unlike him that it gives Feitan whiplash. That's certainly one way to convince him to get on with it.

Feitan leans down and feels Shalnark's  hands immediately hook behind his head. He bites the side of his neck hard enough to earn him a scolding any other night, but Shalnark just winces and bears it this time. He's obviously still fighting his initial reactions, having to stop himself from asserting himself or complaining at all. Feitan will not have won until Shalnark's submission is genuine. It's still a game of dominance, even now.

"You took it well. Good boy," Feitan praises, and pressed up against Shalnark's throat like this, his reaction is obvious. His breath catches for a second and he swallows. He presses slow, soft kisses to the area around the bite just because he's pleased. Affection is a known weakness for both of them, after all.

"I thought you said..." Shalnark trails off, stopping himself.

"I said you couldn't," Feitan reminds him. Shalnark nods, his eyes closed now.

Feitan trails his mouth lower and praises Shalnark again when he arches into it slightly. He feels Shalnark's arms tense from where they rest on his shoulders, sees him bite his lip as subtly as he can manage. He leaves him a kiss on his collarbone before ducking out from under Shalnark's arms and pulling away.

There's no telling how many times in the future he'll get an opportunity like this, so Feitan plans to drag it out for as long as possible. He predicts Shalnark will cave enough to start complaining at the very least, but Feitan knows he can trust him to keep his word regarding their positions.

"Hey, can I make a request?" Shalnark asks, his tone light and casual now that Feitan has given him a breather. "You can tie me up if you want, but don't blindfold me. Please?"

Feitan is still deciding whether or not he'll be doing that. Then, he remembers that list Shalnark was pestering him to fill out however many months ago. It was of what each of them would like to try in bed, ranked by priority.

"I already did mine, so fill it out and we can show each other!" he'd said, on more than one occasion. Feitan found it pointless because everything he'd be interested in trying wouldn't work with their usual positions. Because he never made his own list, he pretended not to be interested in Shalnark's, but he of course took a look at it when Shalnark wasn't paying attention. He only skimmed it so Shalnark couldn't corner him into doing his own if he caught him, but he was able to take in a few subjects.

Feitan is fairly certain that everything on that list was what Shalnark wanted to do to him, not have done to him. If he protests, Feitan will just call him a hypocrite and move onto the next item on the list.

The first he remembers had something to do with wine, which Shalnark's house isn't currently stocked with. Right under it, though, was the same idea but with chocolate syrup, which Shalnark is always stocked with.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Feitan ignores him as he makes his way to the kitchen, quickly retrieving the bottle from the fridge. He displays it openly when he returns and Shalnark's eyes widen. He then clearly has to fight to hide a smile.

"Whatcha gonna do with that?" he asks like he doesn't already know.

"You're always eating too much sugar. It's a wonder you aren't fat," Feitan ribs as he walks closer. "But it's cute when you get messy."

Shalnark pouts at him.

"It's because I take care of myself. It's not like all I do is eat a bunch of candy all day--"

"Yes it is. It's exactly like that."

"Hey!"

Feitan pops the cap open and pulls Shalnark's hair to tilt his head back. Shalnark keeps making a face at him for a few more seconds before he yields and opens his mouth. He holds the bottle up and turns it over, only letting a couple of meager strips of the chocolate syrup fall over Shalnark's tongue before purposely aiming it slightly lower. A large amount of it hits his chin and neck and he flinches slightly at the cold temperature of it as it trickles thickly down to his collarbones.

"You made a mess," Feitan chides as he rights the bottle, using his free hand to break a stubborn strand of syrup connecting the bottle to Shalnark's abdomen.

"How did I make it?!"

"Your chocolate, your mess."

"You're the one with the bottle!"

His muffler has been absent all day, so Shalnark is able to see Feitan's smile. He can't pretend to be mad at the sight of it, or maybe it's because he remembered his promise, but either way, he calms himself and lies back.

"Fine. I guess I'll just lay here covered in chocolate, then. It's all my fault!" he sighs melodramatically, draping an arm over his forehead and turning his head. The way he licks his lips is appealing, even if it's only to get the chocolate off of them.

Feitan finally cares to remove his shirt, leaving him just as dressed as Shalnark. He climbs on top of Shalnark and lowers himself to the furthest drop of chocolate syrup before licking a slow stripe up, following the trail of it. Shalnark's sigh is real this time, soft and pleased.

He slowly makes his way up, already getting sick of the taste of chocolate, and ends it in a kiss. Shalnark is eager to steal the sweet flavor from him and Feitan lets him do as he pleases. It's Shalnark who ends the kiss, and he moves to grab the bottle from Feitan before realizing what he's doing and putting his hand back down on the bed.

"Good boy," Feitan praises him for remembering. He looks vulnerable for a second, a different kind of gasp, barely audible, escaping him.

Since he needs a break from chocolate, Feitan tries to recall the rest of the list. It was a while ago and he didn't get a good look at it, so he struggles to remember much. There was definitely something about knives and threatening, but Shalnark almost certainly doesn't want to be on the receiving end of such a thing. The chocolate is fine because it's harmless. What else was on there?

"Feitan?" Shalnark addresses since he's been idle for a bit, and Feitan looks up to see him propping himself up with one hand and wiping his mouth with the other.

Feitan gives up on remembering the list, setting the chocolate syrup aside as well. Shalnark almost immediately takes it from the nightstand to pour more of it in his mouth, with only one stray drop rolling down his chin. Distracted by the drop, he holds the chocolate in his mouth and rubs at his chin, slightly frustrated that his face is already dirty again. Unable to resist, Feitan grabs Shalnark's chin and wrenches his mouth open, sliding two fingers along his tongue.

"Ah!"

Shalnark struggles to keep any of the syrup from falling onto the bed, effectively getting it all over himself again in his attempts to catch it. His shoulders drop and he glares at Feitan. Feitan is the one who should be glaring-- now he has to clean all this up again.

He starts with his fingers, coated in chocolate that's been thinned slightly from its short time in Shalnark's mouth. He sucks them dry and pushes Shalnark back down, lapping at the intermittent drops that landed just above his waistband. Some of it got on his pants as well, which Feitan sees as an excellent excuse to remove them. If Shalnark noticed it got on his clothes, he's too busy licking the chocolate off his palms to say anything.

Feitan is somewhat surprised to see that Shalnark is already mostly hard. He feels like they've just barely gotten started, and that his touches have been too light and playful to have much of an effect. Maybe Shalnark is getting lost in his own head, his body responding more to what he expects than what he feels. He gets a startled moan out of him when he grabs his cock, but Shalnark just rests his arms on the bed and relaxes into it. The painfully slow pace he pumps him at is essentially a reveal of his plan. The cock in his hand twitches, no doubt at the realization that Feitan isn't going to let this end anytime soon.

"Mm, can I just get one thing straight?" Shalnark asks, thumbing at the remaining chocolate on his chest and licking off whatever amount he catches on his finger.

"What?"

"This is gonna take all night, isn't it?" he correctly assumes. Since he got it right, Feitan sees no need to respond. Instead, he leans down and takes his time licking up one last drop of chocolate syrup.

Feitan busies himself marking up Shalnark's neck as he continues slowly pumping him. As much as he loves seeing him roll his hips up into it in time with the strokes, Feitan chides him for his lack of self control. Shalnark reluctantly stills with a short whine dying in his throat.

He sees Shalnark blindly reaching around in the top drawer to retrieve the lube and, for some reason, he's applying it to his own hand.

"Let me do it," he says, and Feitan stops, just staying in his way for a bit before releasing him. He watches Shalnark stroke himself, only slightly faster than Feitan had been doing it, and he quickly seems to lose track of time. Feitan gets a little entranced by the sight-- by the way his eyes softly flutter closed and his breath starts quickening and he visibly struggles to keep his hand from speeding up because he knows Feitan wants him to do it slowly.

Realizing he's been getting carried away, Shalnark opens his eyes.

"Do you wanna stretch me or should I?" he asks, his tone casual despite his light panting.

Feitan sits back and pulls Shalnark up onto his lap, taking his time to decide while Shalnark adjusts to straddle him. He decides he should be the one in control of this after all, if for no other reason than to continue teasing Shalnark. He picks the lube up, coating the fingers of his left hand before trailing one down Shalnark's spine.

"Come on," he almost whines, unexpectedly eager to be filled. If Shalnark is really craving this so much, why didn't it come up until now? Has he been getting his fix on his own, without Feitan? That's deserving of punishment.

As if to prove him wrong, Shalnark flinches and shudders with a small noise when a finger starts pressing in. He might still be guilty of doing this without Feitan, but at the very least, it's been a while. That, or the fact that he's been fully hard all throughout the slow teasing is making him extra sensitive. His hand is around his cock again and Feitan can see him gritting his teeth and trying to concentrate so as not to speed up.

Shalnark's body is quick to relent to a second finger, and that probably gets his hopes up, but Feitan has already decided to take his time. He doesn't scold Shalnark for letting his body follow his rhythm-- it's slow enough that he can pretend not to notice. Slowly but surely, the pace of Shalnark's hand speeds up and his pants start keeping a bit of voice in them. With his right hand, Feitan harshly grips the base under Shalnark's hand, startling him. Based on the way he quickly pulls his hand away to rest his arm over Feitan's shoulder, just pouting silently at him now, he's not actually surprised.

He stills himself until a third finger is finally added, several minutes after it would have fit. Then, he can't help arching back into it again, cock twitching in Feitan's hand like it's trying to force him to give it friction. He's been stretched enough for a while now, but they both know that isn't what this is about.

Shalnark leans in close until his lips are against the shell of Feitan's ear.

"Go on," he encourages, "take what's yours."

It's a move-- he knows this. Shalnark is breaking his promise. Feitan should leave him hanging as punishment, but fuck if he isn't feeling neglected himself. So he shoves Shalnark to lay down and hops out of bed for a quick moment to finish getting undressed before he's right back on top of Shalnark.

He may have actually forgotten his promise, now that he's licking his lips and grabbing Feitan's cock with that fucking glint in his eye. Feitan isn't having any of it; he pulls Shalnark's hand away by the wrist and throws it onto the bed, where it gently curls into the sheets in anticipation. Shalnark had grabbed him with the hand he'd been stroking himself with, but it's not as slick with lube as it was, so Feitan adds just a little bit more. He almost doesn't just because Shalnark is being a brat, all innocent smiles like he isn't doing anything wrong. But he does, and pushing into him is easy as hell because of it. Shalnark actually gasps, probably having expected a reasonable amount of resistance despite how over-prepared Feitan left him.

In hindsight, spending less time on prep probably would have been better just for the sake of punishing Shalnark, but the way his body readily accepts Feitan without so much as an ounce of resistance is more than worth it. Feitan's left hand replaces where his right had been before he got up, and he uses the other to hold one of Shalnark's legs by the back of the knee. Shalnark twists his body a little to accommodate the position but freezes with a moan as he unintentionally forces Feitan into the perfect angle.

His body is so pliant and his voice is getting so loud now. Feitan keeps thinking Shalnark must have peaked, but he just keeps reacting more and more. He manages to let Feitan dangle him off the edge without complaint for so long before he just has to speak up.

"F... Feitan--"

"No," Feitan cuts him off just because he's whining. Shalnark throws his head back and shudders hard before he can try talking again.

"Just--"

"No complaining."

"Just let me come! We can keep going-- I can do more than one round! Please!"

Shalnark is really begging. He's really, truly been made desperate by Feitan, whom he has submitted to wholeheartedly. This sends a satisfying shiver through Feitan's body, tensing every muscle it passes through. Shalnark hasn't stopped talking, probably not even aware of what he's saying at this point as Feitan overrides all his senses, all his thoughts. He decides it's enough, then, and releases his grip to tug at the cock in his hand instead.

Feitan dedicates all the concentration he can manage on paying attention to what Shalnark's body does as he comes; the way he arches way up off the bed, the way he chokes on a shivering moan, the way he leans his head back as far as it'll go, the way his legs lock up all tense and his toes curl... Feitan commits it all to memory. He'll be damned if he never gets to see this again. Shalnark should have known a taste would only get him addicted.

"Oh my god..." Shalnark mutters breathlessly, slurring his words slightly.

While Shalnark keeps mumbling in his daze, Feitan figures this session started with making a mess of Shalnark, so it can end the same way. He pulls out just in time to cover Shalnark's stomach in warm come-- he even leans up into it despite his exhaustion. Feitan spends a good while just staring at the mess of mixed semen before looking up at Shalnark's face. He's smiling.

"Aren't you gonna clean it up?"

"No," Feitan is quick to answer, unceremoniously dropping Shalnark's leg to the bed.

"Aw, come on! You made a mess again and you're not even gonna help me clean it?"

"Your body, your mess."

"Jeez! At least get me some tissues!"

"Your house. You do it." Feitan lies down next to Shalnark, who sighs.

"That chocolate needs to go back in the fridge, too... are you really gonna make me get up?"

Well, he almost asked nicely, Feitan guesses. He slides off the bed and grabs the bottle off the nightstand and leaves to return it to the refrigerator, grabbing a few tissues on his way back. He drops them onto Shalnark and lays back down. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shalnark smiling at him again.

"Maybe we could do this again sometime," he says, and Feitan actually shoots up at that. Shalnark laughs at his reaction.

"You better mean it," he says.

"Sure I do! But I'm gonna need to dominate you a few nights in a row to make up for it."

Of course. Though, as much as it wounds his pride no matter how many times it happens, Feitan can't say he minds.