Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2013-04-07 06:52 pm
sophinisba) wrote2013-04-07 06:52 pm
Entry tags:
camelotremix fic: Red (The Gift That Keeps On Giving Remix)
Title: Red (The Gift That Keeps On Giving Remix)
Fandom: Merlin
Ship: Arthur/Percival, Arthur/Leon
Rating: NC-17
Contains: BDSM, kink negotiation, a little bit of impact play
Wordcount: 5176
Notes: Remix of Red Jacket by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
riventhorn, written for camelotremix with wonderful help and support by roughandtumble. (Also thinking about using it for the whipping/flogging square on my second kink_bingo card but I think that would be stretching the erotic focus rule pretty far.)
Summary: "I don't hit people I'm having sex with, or people I care about," says Percival. "Or at least, I haven't, up till now."
Read it at the AO3!
Red (The Gift That Keeps On Giving Remix)
"Harder," Arthur grunts, arching his back, and Percival grips his shoulder and fucks, and fucks, hard and huge and steady and fine.
"Harder." Arthur shakes his fists, rattling the chain wrapped around the bedposts, and Percival leans in closer, reaching up his arm. He never breaks his rhythm but the shift makes the angle even better, it's so good, it's almost fucking perfect, and if Arthur were good at this he'd shut up and take it but instead he bucks and kicks and yells, "Hit me, god damn it!"
There's only a second's pause, if that. Hell, maybe it's just Arthur's imagination, but he has time to feel a rush of blood to his head, to squeeze his eyes shut and press his face into the sheets before Percival says, "Yeah, baby," and Arthur can breathe again. Then Percival's shoving him up on his knees so he can grab Arthur's dick. He keeps fucking into him while he jerks him off, short rough strokes, Percival's big hand. "I'm gonna leave your ass so red and raw," he promises, "you'll be walking like an old man tomorrow, boy."
"Yes," says Arthur, relaxing even as he jerks in Percival's hands, as he pulls against the cuffs and feels the strain in his whole body.
"You'll like that, won't you?"
"Yes."
"Just like you love everything I give you, you little slut."
Percival comes first, a quiet huff of breath rushing out of him, but he keeps his hand wrapped tight around Arthur's dick, and seconds later Arthur's following him, spurting into the sheets, letting his legs give way as they both collapse together.
"Beautiful slut," Percival murmurs, and Arthur just hums.
Percival's breath is hot like shame on the back of Arthur's neck, and Arthur can't move under his sudden limp weight. He smiles and floats and hopes they stay like this all night.
*
Thankfully for Arthur's health and hygiene, Percival's more rational than that. After a minute he starts to lift up, and while Arthur's still adjusting to taking deep breaths again Percival undoes the cuffs and moves Arthur to lie back against his chest while he rubs movement back into Arthur's arms.
"That's it," says Percival as Arthur stretches and shifts his weight. "That's good. You were so good."
There's no suitable answer for that, not when Arthur didn't even do anything, just spread his legs and whined until Percival fucked him like a pornstar. But somehow that seems to work for Percival too. And it seems to be okay for Arthur to just lie here now, lazy and speechless as a cat, nuzzling and drifting while Percival cleans them up.
He dozes for a while. Opens his eyes to realize Percival's gone to take a shower, and sleeps some more.
Percival comes back with a glass of water and some cheese and crackers. "It's nice when you already know you need to wash the sheets," he muses.
"No point in getting worked up about crumbs, huh?" Arthur makes room for Percival in the bed. He eats one piece of cheese out of Percival's hand before they mutually and silently agree that's not happening right now.
Percival clears his throat.
"So. I don't, um. I don't hit people."
It catches Arthur in the middle of a dry swallow and he has to cough, but he doesn't choke.
"I know, yeah, it's part of the job," Percival adds, "but it's one of those parts of the job we try to avoid."
"Of course," Arthur manages.
"What I'm trying to say is, I don't hit people I'm having sex with, or people I care about. Or at least, I haven't, up till now."
"Hey, is this about what I said before?" He knows oblivious-casual is a stupid way to go, and the look Percival levels at him confirms it, but he still tries, "Because that was just, you know, talk. I say some crazy shit sometimes when I'm horny."
"Don't we all," Percival allows with a smile, and they both take a minute to appreciate the satisfying taste of salt, though Arthur starts to wonder if his chewing is really as loud as it sounds in his head right now.
"I'm not saying it's never gonna happen, but I need some time to get used to the idea, at least. Somebody like me can do a lot of damage if they're not careful."
"You don't need to be careful of me," Arthur starts.
"Yes I do, Arthur!" Percival takes a calming breath before he continues. "Are you… Is it the pain, or a discipline thing?"
Arthur shrugs. "Whatever, I'll stop pretending I didn't mean it, but it's honestly not that big a deal. What you did tonight was awesome, it was…amazing, really."
"But it would have been better for you if –"
"No," Arthur says, and pushes the food out of the way and kisses him. "No, I did not need anything else tonight. I do not need anything else."
I just want to take everything you give me, he could say, he might say, someday. When he's not afraid of sounding like the dumb twink in the bad porno. But right now saying harder is embarrassing enough, and if saying hit me is going to lead to this kind of interrogation then fine, he'll keep it to himself.
But sometime he'll say, I want your cock in me, I want to be your little slut, and someday Percival will give him everything he needs.
"I can hear you but I can't see you. Can you click on –"
"I got it, yeah, just –"
Arthur sees his own face come up in the little window at the bottom of the screen, then sees the easy smile spread across Percival face. "Hey, loverboy," Percival says.
"Hey. Good to see you."
"I'll say. I miss you."
Arthur hesitates. "It's only a week."
"Yeah, five days since I got to touch you."
"We go without for five days all the time, when work gets –"
"It's different when you're away though, knowing I can't just come over."
"Yeah. It's different."
"So how's it going?"
Arthur shrugs. "Lots of meetings. Every meal's a meeting, then there's more meetings, then they schedule time for me to sit in a conference room by myself and make phone calls…"
"I guess that makes it a little more understandable that you haven't wanted to Skype the last couple nights. Thanks for fitting me into your schedule."
The way he says it, seriously, gratefully, makes Arthur feel worse than if he'd said it as a dig.
"Show me your hotel room?"
Arthur picks up the laptop and walks around with it for a minute, giving him the tour. He hasn't paid much attention to the room himself so far, practically falling into bed at the end of each long day.
"My place is the same, as you can see," Percival says as Arthur sits back down.
"Wish I was there."
"Me too, baby."
"It's good to see you," Arthur says again. Percival takes off his shirt, and Arthur laughs. "Good to see so much of you!"
"I wouldn't mind seeing a little more of you," Percival says with a lascivious nod, "even if it is on a small screen."
Arthur realizes he's still wearing his tie and takes it off quickly, but his fingers slow as he's undoing the top button of his shirt. His neck is showing. Percival is looking at his neck.
"Do you have your collar with you?" Percival asks gently.
"No," Arthur lies. He's been fondling it when he jerks off every night before going to sleep here. "Um. This is a work computer. Maybe we should – I don't usually –"
"Are you serious?"
"I don't think I can do this right now," Arthur says, blinking, his mouth dry.
"The company doesn't own you, Arthur. I think you need to schedule in an hour or two where you're not a vice-president."
"It's not that easy to turn it off!" Arthur snaps. "And I can't exactly run the branch if I'm thinking about what my master would say about every decision I make." There's a twist of sarcasm on the word that he didn't mean to put there, that makes no sense there, and Percival frowns in surprise.
"I never told you to call me that. I thought it was –"
"Right, I know." It's Arthur who said it first. Arthur who'd been wanting to say it since he was fifteen years old. It's Arthur who lucked out with this guy and started falling in love even before he found out they could do kink together, and what the fuck is he doing, throwing that back in his face over the Internet?
"You don't – I'm not trying to push you into anything," Percival says.
"I know that. I'm sorry, I… Listen, I think all the teleconferencing is really getting to my head. There's some…cognitive dissonance, I keep expecting you to start asking about staff retention or…or maybe I'm just not a phonesex kind of guy, I don't know, but…I'll be home in three days, yeah?"
Percival looks at him and says nothing.
"I want to be with you when I'm with you, but I. If I just have to sit in front of a computer and talk that's not. I'm sorry. I'll email you."
Arthur ends the call.
*
He's never signed in to any porn sites from a work computer and he doesn't do it tonight. But he does visit a couple of the free ones. Later he makes a purchase – in his own name, with one of his personal credit cards.
He logs out and erases the browser history before he sets his alarm and goes to bed.
"Hey," Arthur says, standing in the doorway.
"Hey, come in."
Arthur follows Percival into the kitchen. "I uh… I got you a present."
It was waiting outside his apartment when he got back from the trip, long box in the discreet brown packaging he's come to count on. There was an option to send it gift-wrapped, but Arthur had wanted to look at it and touch it, just in case there was something off, before he offered it to Percival as a sorry-I-suck-so-much-at-relationships gift. Arthur wrapped it himself, even tied the red bow that Percival now seems reluctant to undo.
Arthur pulls at the ribbon for him.
"I can't say that's what I was expecting," Percival says.
Arthur swallows. "Can't say that's what I thought you'd say."
"I just thought we'd… No, that's not true, I knew you wouldn't want to talk things through first."
Arthur looks down. At home he thought the riding crop looked sleek and elegant, and the combination of red and black (the same colors as his collar) would make Percival smile. But maybe to Percival it looks cheap, or maybe he thinks Arthur's stupid for spending paying extra at a BDSM site when he could buy something just as effective for a quarter of the price at a riding supply company.
"We could have bought something like this together, you know," Percival says. "Like we did with the collar."
Arthur coughs. "I thought it would be nice to get you a… But yeah, I guess, yeah, you're right."
That was a good night, back at Arthur's place. That was the first time Arthur (spontaneously, uncertainly) called him master, and Percival hadn't freaked out at all, just took charge the way he knows how to do so well, and afterwards he called Arthur a good boy and asked if he wanted a special reward.
They spent a good hour looking through the choices on several of their favorite web suppliers – by then Percival knew that Arthur refused to be seen at an actual sex shop, much less shopping for bondage gear with a man. The one they eventually settled on was simple, despite the two colors. Flexible leather, not too thick, with a buckle (there's never been talk of a lock) and one D-ring for the leash. It's Arthur's, and he takes it home when they're not together, wears it alone sometimes when he wants to feel grounded. Sometimes he leaves it there when he comes over here.
He's wearing it now, though he took care to conceal it before he left his apartment.
Picking it out together was good, but why should that be the only way they start doing new things? Arthur makes five times what Percival does, and he likes buying things. "You didn't think the dildo was weird," he says, feeling churlish.
Percival chuckles. "I'm not saying this is weird."
"Okay then."
"Okay. Thank you for the present."
Then Arthur takes off his tie and undoes the buttons of his shirt, one after the other. He gets on his knees and clasps his hands behind his back.
Percival draws in a breath. "You look gorgeous like that, baby," he says. "But tell me what's going on."
"I fucked up. Sir. I fucked up, I'm sorry, I'm not good at… So I thought you might want to teach me a lesson."
"You thought… Arthur, I hope to god you didn't blow me off on purpose the other night just to provoke me into punishing you."
"No! No, sir, I really couldn't figure out how –"
"'Cause I'll be honest, if someone did that to me my reaction wouldn't be to beat them, it'd be to end it."
"No, please…"
"That doesn't sound like you."
"I swear, master. I've been wanting us to have something like this for a long time and I bought it the other night after…but I didn't do that on purpose, I swear."
Percival pets Arthur's hair and then lifts up his chin – it's the first time Arthur's looked him in the eye since he handed over the present. "Thank you for telling me that," Percival says, and holds his chin firm when Arthur tries to duck his head again.
"Do you want me to punish you tonight, Arthur?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you want me to beat you with the crop?"
"Please, sir."
"Do you want to suck my cock tonight?"
In answer Arthur raises his hands to start undoing Percival's fly, and Percival lets him, lets him draw out his cock and lovingly kiss the head.
"Okay," he says, pushing at the sides of Arthur's jaw now to urge it open. "You can have this first, then I'll tie you up and hurt you, does that sound good?"
Arthur's got his mouth full already but he moans, yes, that sounds perfect, he'll hurt him and then he'll be all right.
Percival cups the back of Arthur's head as his cock swells and he starts to thrust into Arthur's throat. "All right then," he says, "good boy," his voice low, happy, and only a little resigned, "welcome home."
*
By the time Percival hooks the leash to the collar Arthur's feeling easy and at peace, as he always does after Percival's used him.
But once he's tied it to the headboard Arthur's less sure. There's too much give to the leash, and even though Percival's positioned Arthur's hands on the bedposts, Arthur thinks he'd be better off if his wrists were secured.
But the whole thing's meaningless if Arthur tries to make all those little decisions for himself. It was already presumptuous of him to buy the crop and bring it over without consulting the man who's going to use it, he can see that now. So as Percival's leaning over and handling him and asking, "Does this feel all right?" Arthur just nods.
He still thinks it's going to be good until the first time the crop lands on his ass. Because he's been wanting this too long, and the sting is far too small. He grits his teeth but after a few more smacks he groans in frustration, and Percival says, "Is it too much? Want to take a break?"
Arthur nods, finds his voice but can only say, "Yeah, let's…"
With just the collar it's easy to roll over onto his back. He spreads his legs and pulls Percival on top of him, kisses his mouth sloppily, and relishes the burn as his ass rubs against the mattress.
Percival: Talked to guy at the club who works with couples. Want to do a session
Arthur: Works?
Percival: Sex stuff. Kink. You and me could use some work baby.
Arthur: Just want to have a good time with you. I don't want therapy!
Percival: Come over tonight and I'll show you a good time.
*
"If I suck your cock will you stop trying to get me to talk about my feelings?"
"You'll suck my cock when I tell you to," Percival says, and not in the stern commander way Arthur likes to fantasize about. He sounds annoyed, tired as he leans back on the couch. Arthur's equally exasperated and a little wounded, considering that his attempts at makeouts have gone nowhere tonight. Fine, damn it, he'll try.
"Hey," he says, taking Percival's hand. "It was a joke…mostly. I'm not trying to be difficult or…avoid doing, whatever, if you think it's important."
Percival nods, places a gentle, possessive hand around Arthur's neck, and holds it there for a minute before he starts undoing the collar.
Arthur sighs. "I guess I can't really do a lot of negotiating when I'm wearing that."
"Yeah, especially since you're gagging for my cock pretty much all the time."
Arthur smiles and closes his eyes, replaying the sentence in his mind a few times while he lets himself be handled.
"And you know what?" Percival says. "It never gets old. You're so fucking sexy, baby." He puts the collar in Arthur's hand and holds it on Arthur's leg. "And every time you go down on your knees for me, every time you open your mouth. Every time you open up your legs and offer me that sweet ass, I think, how the hell did I get so lucky? I can't believe it. But then I can't help thinking, how long is this gonna last?"
The little cloud of bliss Arthur's been drifting on pops out of existence, and he opens his eyes. Licks his lips. "You don't think we can just keep doing this?" he asks after a few tries.
"I don't know what to think. I sure never thought I'd be with someone as hot as you, and here you are, you show up at my apartment, wearing my fucking collar and offering me a blowjob. You're the best thing that every happened to me, and it's probably crazy of me to think we could make this even better."
Yes, Arthur wants to say, so leave it alone, but he dials that back to "Maybe," and then, "so what do you think would make it better?"
"I think you need to tell me."
Arthur snorts. "You know what I want." He's always saying it's obvious.
"Yeah," Percival says fondly, and draws him close to kiss him on the lips. "Your body is fucking eloquent, Arthur. It's so good at telling me how much you want to be mine, how much you want my cock in you, right?"
Arthur nods shyly.
"And then sometimes your body tells me you're not getting enough, or what I'm giving you isn't working. And that's when I need a little more info than you can give me without words. I need to know why it's not working. I need to know what's missing."
Arthur reaches for Percival's thigh and squeezes it softly while he searches for words. "I'm trying," he says, and Percival waits for him to think some more. Arthur takes a breath and jumps in. "So it's… I haven't done most of this stuff before. I've had boyfriends, I've had sex, but it was always the…the kind everybody knows about, so you don't have to worry about…names, or roles, any of that; it's hard, because it's new."
"You've been wanting it for a long time."
"But I haven't asked for it. There hasn't been anybody I could ask without... And now there's you, and I'm like you, I can't believe I'm this lucky. And I'm. I'm not afraid anymore that I'm gonna freak you out. But I'm afraid of asking too much."
It's a great, unexpected relief to fall silent knowing that he's actually said something substantive this time. Even better when Percival folds him in a hug and says, "Thank you." They settle back and Arthur takes a sip of water. Percival says, "Thank you for trusting me, Arthur. I'm glad you know I'm not gonna freak out. And if it ever gets to be too much for me…hey, trust me to tell you."
Arthur nods. It's a lot of stuff he knows already. He sits up, leans forward, realizing on some level that he feels more confident when he's arguing. "So what I don't get is, how is your solution to bring in a stranger? I mean, think about how long it's taken us to get to this point, even with you being so awesome and accepting –"
"And you being so passionate and so brave –"
"Right, whatever, we're both awesome, but if we've got all that going for us and it's still this hard, I can't even think about…going out to some club and letting you…and with this expert sex consultant you've started discussing me with –"
"Arthur."
"Yeah, you get the idea, I'll shut up now."
"You don't have to shut up."
"Want to!" He takes a long drink of water while Percival considers the question.
"I'll be honest, I don't know if it's gonna make things any easier for you. But I think you can handle it, and I think I need it. You've got a lot of ideas, baby, and you're getting better about sharing them with me. You want to go a lot of places, and I want to go there with you. But you can't assume I know the way already. Look, I'm a big guy and I'm really good at fucking you, right?"
"Damn straight."
"Thanks, man. But that doesn't mean I know everything there is to know about BDSM, okay? I'm working at this too."
"If you ask me you're doing pretty great."
"But you want me to hit harder."
"I don't…"
"And you know I can. I know I can. But knowing where to stop? Especially when I'm still struggling to get you to talk to me at all…that's not something I can trust myself with, not yet. So I'm saying, you want me to be in charge, let me actually take the lead for once. Give this a try for me."
Arthur had a lot of other arguments a minute ago – mostly variations on privacy, discretion, my job, the money – but as he thinks about articulating them now they keep coming back to him as selfish, selfish, selfish.
"You get that this is gonna be hard for me," he says aloud.
"Yes. I also believe it's gonna be great for us."
"Okay." He lifts the collar up to his neck again and sighs with relief when Percival starts doing the clasp for him. "Okay, tell me what comes next."
Arthur fumbles with the wrapping paper, his fingers half numb, and belatedly he empathizes with last month's Percival, confused about the status of their relationship and having no idea what to expect when he opens the box.
Arthur's always given his friends and boyfriends a lot of presents. It only seemed natural, since he's always had money and he's always been eager to please. Lately he's been trying to hold back, let Percival decide how to surprise him. But since tonight's a special occasion, and in the spirit if mutual flexibility, they agreed they'd each get something for the other to wear.
In the end they both get their presents open at the same time, and Arthur has to laugh, breaking the tension in the air as each of them pulls a bright red garment out of his respective box. Percival has the velvet jacket Arthur picked out for him last week, and Arthur has a pair of Calvin Klein briefs (so brief, so tiny they will leave nothing to the imagination, he understands at once) in a mess of pink and white tissue paper.
"Who says we aren't made for each other?" Percival says, chuckling.
"I thought it would like nice with those black pants," Arthur offers, "the ones with the…cord."
"Sounds good to me. I thought these would look nice with your collar."
"Yeah," Arthur says, nodding quickly and swallowing.
"And nothing else," Percival clarifies.
"Right." And Arthur grins, because he might as well. "You know, there's really not much point in me being nervous, is there? You've already decided what's going to happen so…I should just let it happen."
"That's right, baby. You don't need to worry about anything tonight. Just do what you're told, and keep silent unless someone tells you to speak, all right? I know you'll be great. You're gonna make me so proud."
Arthur wants to shake his head, but he just looks up into Percival's eyes and says, "I'll try."
*
And that's how it goes, at first. There are other people there and some of them stare, and Arthur always thought he'd be mortified, and maybe some part of him is. But they're all looking at him like a thing, not like a person who dressed himself and is therefore responsible for looking as indecent as he does. They treat him like he's Percival's property, and that feels about right.
They're alone together for a bit and then they're in a room with one other man and some scary looking furniture, but nothing about it is difficult or confusing until Percival undoes Arthur's collar. He's trying to say something encouraging but all Arthur registers is that he's leaving, and Arthur reaches out for him. He grabs an arm because that's close, and it's perfect because he touches the red jacket, and underneath it is Percival's strength, so familiar, so reassuring.
With Percival pressing down on his shoulders, it's easy to sink to his knees. He lets Percival spread his legs and slip on the metal cuffs. Percival has Arthur bend forward and rest his chest on a black padded board, his elbows on the floor, and another pair of cuffs go around his wrists. Last of all Percival hooks another collar around Arthur's neck. It's mounted on a rod, binding him to the stockade and forcing him to hold up his head and face forward. Arthur's muscles strain slightly in the odd position – when he first glimpsed the device he expected to end up with his ass high in the air, but the cuffs keep him spread low, with an awkward weight on the inside of his knees.
"I'll be right here watching you," Percival promises, giving Arthur a brief kiss on the lips before he draws away. "Just be good, and keep your eyes on me." He walks backwards toward the wall and Arthur obeys gratefully, licking his lips when Percival takes off the jacket and lays it beside him on the bench where he sits down.
Arthur isn't distracted by the noises the other man's making, but when Percival breaks eye contact with Arthur to stare past him, when he spreads his legs and goes visibly hard, Arthur twists instinctively, wanting to see what Percival sees.
The collar holds him in place, though, and the man spanks his ass at the same time he speaks directly to Arthur for the first time, chiding him, "None of that, now." It's just a light smack, with the weirdly cool texture of a latex glove, but the intimacy of it shocks Arthur, in a way that being stripped and restrained in front of this stranger had so far failed to do. "We'll teach you to be a good boy," the man says cheerfully while pushing a gloved, lubed finger into Arthur's hole. "You're going to please Percival tonight. You're going to show him how good you can be." He laughs low and confident when his probing finger makes Arthur whimper. "That's it. I'm going to put a plug in you now, get you ready for your master's cock. Or are you such a slut that you don't need it?"
Yes, of course Arthur's ready for Percival's cock now. He can take it without prep.
What he doesn't know how to handle is this discussion. Does being asked if he's a slut count as being told to speak? Apparently not, since his master's answering for him (Yes, of course he's a slut, and Arthur's not allowed to hang his head, but god, he never thought it would feel so good, to hear someone else call him "your master", as if there's nothing strange or shameful about that). Arthur screws his mouth and his eyes shut, but he can't stop the whine from escaping when the man rubs the plug against his hole. Is that against the rules? Is he making a fool of himself and embarrassing his master by being such a slut for this stranger and his toys? The stranger slaps his ass again and this time Arthur's not sure why. Fuck.
"It's all right, baby," says Percival, suddenly close. Arthur can smell him before he opens his eyes on a cock inches away from his face. "You need this? Come on, I'm gonna make you feel so good."
And it's true, once Arthur's got Percival's cock in his mouth and Percival's fingers combing through his hair and Percival's voice praising him he's home again. And it doesn't matter so much that the hard little prick that's fucking him is in someone else's hand; it's still Percival that's doing it to him, with help.
So even when Percival steps back again (his cock jutting out in front of him, wet with precum and Arthur's spit) Arthur can calmly watch him go, relax against the chest pad, all the while feeling the plug go in and out, knowing soon he'll have his master's big cock inside him instead.
It's the stranger's voice, low and rough, telling him to count, but it's still his master's order, and Arthur's determined to obey. Only when the first blow comes down, the countless tails whipping all over Arthur's back, the sensation's so great, so exactly what he's always wanted, along with the knowledge that Percival's given it to him…for a moment he can't remember any words.
"One!" he shouts triumphantly. Yes, he'll do this for Percival, he'll give what he can. "Two," his voice is breaking already, and the sting on his back pricks in his eyes as the tears start to fall. "Three," he might as well be calling out already, fuck me, fuck me, please give me your cock! "Four," he sobs, knowing this is only the beginning, but he'll go on counting, and he will beg, and Percival will give him everything he wants. He will, he will.
Fandom: Merlin
Ship: Arthur/Percival, Arthur/Leon
Rating: NC-17
Contains: BDSM, kink negotiation, a little bit of impact play
Wordcount: 5176
Notes: Remix of Red Jacket by
riventhorn, written for camelotremix with wonderful help and support by roughandtumble. (Also thinking about using it for the whipping/flogging square on my second kink_bingo card but I think that would be stretching the erotic focus rule pretty far.) Summary: "I don't hit people I'm having sex with, or people I care about," says Percival. "Or at least, I haven't, up till now."
Read it at the AO3!
Red (The Gift That Keeps On Giving Remix)
"Harder," Arthur grunts, arching his back, and Percival grips his shoulder and fucks, and fucks, hard and huge and steady and fine.
"Harder." Arthur shakes his fists, rattling the chain wrapped around the bedposts, and Percival leans in closer, reaching up his arm. He never breaks his rhythm but the shift makes the angle even better, it's so good, it's almost fucking perfect, and if Arthur were good at this he'd shut up and take it but instead he bucks and kicks and yells, "Hit me, god damn it!"
There's only a second's pause, if that. Hell, maybe it's just Arthur's imagination, but he has time to feel a rush of blood to his head, to squeeze his eyes shut and press his face into the sheets before Percival says, "Yeah, baby," and Arthur can breathe again. Then Percival's shoving him up on his knees so he can grab Arthur's dick. He keeps fucking into him while he jerks him off, short rough strokes, Percival's big hand. "I'm gonna leave your ass so red and raw," he promises, "you'll be walking like an old man tomorrow, boy."
"Yes," says Arthur, relaxing even as he jerks in Percival's hands, as he pulls against the cuffs and feels the strain in his whole body.
"You'll like that, won't you?"
"Yes."
"Just like you love everything I give you, you little slut."
Percival comes first, a quiet huff of breath rushing out of him, but he keeps his hand wrapped tight around Arthur's dick, and seconds later Arthur's following him, spurting into the sheets, letting his legs give way as they both collapse together.
"Beautiful slut," Percival murmurs, and Arthur just hums.
Percival's breath is hot like shame on the back of Arthur's neck, and Arthur can't move under his sudden limp weight. He smiles and floats and hopes they stay like this all night.
*
Thankfully for Arthur's health and hygiene, Percival's more rational than that. After a minute he starts to lift up, and while Arthur's still adjusting to taking deep breaths again Percival undoes the cuffs and moves Arthur to lie back against his chest while he rubs movement back into Arthur's arms.
"That's it," says Percival as Arthur stretches and shifts his weight. "That's good. You were so good."
There's no suitable answer for that, not when Arthur didn't even do anything, just spread his legs and whined until Percival fucked him like a pornstar. But somehow that seems to work for Percival too. And it seems to be okay for Arthur to just lie here now, lazy and speechless as a cat, nuzzling and drifting while Percival cleans them up.
He dozes for a while. Opens his eyes to realize Percival's gone to take a shower, and sleeps some more.
Percival comes back with a glass of water and some cheese and crackers. "It's nice when you already know you need to wash the sheets," he muses.
"No point in getting worked up about crumbs, huh?" Arthur makes room for Percival in the bed. He eats one piece of cheese out of Percival's hand before they mutually and silently agree that's not happening right now.
Percival clears his throat.
"So. I don't, um. I don't hit people."
It catches Arthur in the middle of a dry swallow and he has to cough, but he doesn't choke.
"I know, yeah, it's part of the job," Percival adds, "but it's one of those parts of the job we try to avoid."
"Of course," Arthur manages.
"What I'm trying to say is, I don't hit people I'm having sex with, or people I care about. Or at least, I haven't, up till now."
"Hey, is this about what I said before?" He knows oblivious-casual is a stupid way to go, and the look Percival levels at him confirms it, but he still tries, "Because that was just, you know, talk. I say some crazy shit sometimes when I'm horny."
"Don't we all," Percival allows with a smile, and they both take a minute to appreciate the satisfying taste of salt, though Arthur starts to wonder if his chewing is really as loud as it sounds in his head right now.
"I'm not saying it's never gonna happen, but I need some time to get used to the idea, at least. Somebody like me can do a lot of damage if they're not careful."
"You don't need to be careful of me," Arthur starts.
"Yes I do, Arthur!" Percival takes a calming breath before he continues. "Are you… Is it the pain, or a discipline thing?"
Arthur shrugs. "Whatever, I'll stop pretending I didn't mean it, but it's honestly not that big a deal. What you did tonight was awesome, it was…amazing, really."
"But it would have been better for you if –"
"No," Arthur says, and pushes the food out of the way and kisses him. "No, I did not need anything else tonight. I do not need anything else."
I just want to take everything you give me, he could say, he might say, someday. When he's not afraid of sounding like the dumb twink in the bad porno. But right now saying harder is embarrassing enough, and if saying hit me is going to lead to this kind of interrogation then fine, he'll keep it to himself.
But sometime he'll say, I want your cock in me, I want to be your little slut, and someday Percival will give him everything he needs.
"I can hear you but I can't see you. Can you click on –"
"I got it, yeah, just –"
Arthur sees his own face come up in the little window at the bottom of the screen, then sees the easy smile spread across Percival face. "Hey, loverboy," Percival says.
"Hey. Good to see you."
"I'll say. I miss you."
Arthur hesitates. "It's only a week."
"Yeah, five days since I got to touch you."
"We go without for five days all the time, when work gets –"
"It's different when you're away though, knowing I can't just come over."
"Yeah. It's different."
"So how's it going?"
Arthur shrugs. "Lots of meetings. Every meal's a meeting, then there's more meetings, then they schedule time for me to sit in a conference room by myself and make phone calls…"
"I guess that makes it a little more understandable that you haven't wanted to Skype the last couple nights. Thanks for fitting me into your schedule."
The way he says it, seriously, gratefully, makes Arthur feel worse than if he'd said it as a dig.
"Show me your hotel room?"
Arthur picks up the laptop and walks around with it for a minute, giving him the tour. He hasn't paid much attention to the room himself so far, practically falling into bed at the end of each long day.
"My place is the same, as you can see," Percival says as Arthur sits back down.
"Wish I was there."
"Me too, baby."
"It's good to see you," Arthur says again. Percival takes off his shirt, and Arthur laughs. "Good to see so much of you!"
"I wouldn't mind seeing a little more of you," Percival says with a lascivious nod, "even if it is on a small screen."
Arthur realizes he's still wearing his tie and takes it off quickly, but his fingers slow as he's undoing the top button of his shirt. His neck is showing. Percival is looking at his neck.
"Do you have your collar with you?" Percival asks gently.
"No," Arthur lies. He's been fondling it when he jerks off every night before going to sleep here. "Um. This is a work computer. Maybe we should – I don't usually –"
"Are you serious?"
"I don't think I can do this right now," Arthur says, blinking, his mouth dry.
"The company doesn't own you, Arthur. I think you need to schedule in an hour or two where you're not a vice-president."
"It's not that easy to turn it off!" Arthur snaps. "And I can't exactly run the branch if I'm thinking about what my master would say about every decision I make." There's a twist of sarcasm on the word that he didn't mean to put there, that makes no sense there, and Percival frowns in surprise.
"I never told you to call me that. I thought it was –"
"Right, I know." It's Arthur who said it first. Arthur who'd been wanting to say it since he was fifteen years old. It's Arthur who lucked out with this guy and started falling in love even before he found out they could do kink together, and what the fuck is he doing, throwing that back in his face over the Internet?
"You don't – I'm not trying to push you into anything," Percival says.
"I know that. I'm sorry, I… Listen, I think all the teleconferencing is really getting to my head. There's some…cognitive dissonance, I keep expecting you to start asking about staff retention or…or maybe I'm just not a phonesex kind of guy, I don't know, but…I'll be home in three days, yeah?"
Percival looks at him and says nothing.
"I want to be with you when I'm with you, but I. If I just have to sit in front of a computer and talk that's not. I'm sorry. I'll email you."
Arthur ends the call.
*
He's never signed in to any porn sites from a work computer and he doesn't do it tonight. But he does visit a couple of the free ones. Later he makes a purchase – in his own name, with one of his personal credit cards.
He logs out and erases the browser history before he sets his alarm and goes to bed.
"Hey," Arthur says, standing in the doorway.
"Hey, come in."
Arthur follows Percival into the kitchen. "I uh… I got you a present."
It was waiting outside his apartment when he got back from the trip, long box in the discreet brown packaging he's come to count on. There was an option to send it gift-wrapped, but Arthur had wanted to look at it and touch it, just in case there was something off, before he offered it to Percival as a sorry-I-suck-so-much-at-relationships gift. Arthur wrapped it himself, even tied the red bow that Percival now seems reluctant to undo.
Arthur pulls at the ribbon for him.
"I can't say that's what I was expecting," Percival says.
Arthur swallows. "Can't say that's what I thought you'd say."
"I just thought we'd… No, that's not true, I knew you wouldn't want to talk things through first."
Arthur looks down. At home he thought the riding crop looked sleek and elegant, and the combination of red and black (the same colors as his collar) would make Percival smile. But maybe to Percival it looks cheap, or maybe he thinks Arthur's stupid for spending paying extra at a BDSM site when he could buy something just as effective for a quarter of the price at a riding supply company.
"We could have bought something like this together, you know," Percival says. "Like we did with the collar."
Arthur coughs. "I thought it would be nice to get you a… But yeah, I guess, yeah, you're right."
That was a good night, back at Arthur's place. That was the first time Arthur (spontaneously, uncertainly) called him master, and Percival hadn't freaked out at all, just took charge the way he knows how to do so well, and afterwards he called Arthur a good boy and asked if he wanted a special reward.
They spent a good hour looking through the choices on several of their favorite web suppliers – by then Percival knew that Arthur refused to be seen at an actual sex shop, much less shopping for bondage gear with a man. The one they eventually settled on was simple, despite the two colors. Flexible leather, not too thick, with a buckle (there's never been talk of a lock) and one D-ring for the leash. It's Arthur's, and he takes it home when they're not together, wears it alone sometimes when he wants to feel grounded. Sometimes he leaves it there when he comes over here.
He's wearing it now, though he took care to conceal it before he left his apartment.
Picking it out together was good, but why should that be the only way they start doing new things? Arthur makes five times what Percival does, and he likes buying things. "You didn't think the dildo was weird," he says, feeling churlish.
Percival chuckles. "I'm not saying this is weird."
"Okay then."
"Okay. Thank you for the present."
Then Arthur takes off his tie and undoes the buttons of his shirt, one after the other. He gets on his knees and clasps his hands behind his back.
Percival draws in a breath. "You look gorgeous like that, baby," he says. "But tell me what's going on."
"I fucked up. Sir. I fucked up, I'm sorry, I'm not good at… So I thought you might want to teach me a lesson."
"You thought… Arthur, I hope to god you didn't blow me off on purpose the other night just to provoke me into punishing you."
"No! No, sir, I really couldn't figure out how –"
"'Cause I'll be honest, if someone did that to me my reaction wouldn't be to beat them, it'd be to end it."
"No, please…"
"That doesn't sound like you."
"I swear, master. I've been wanting us to have something like this for a long time and I bought it the other night after…but I didn't do that on purpose, I swear."
Percival pets Arthur's hair and then lifts up his chin – it's the first time Arthur's looked him in the eye since he handed over the present. "Thank you for telling me that," Percival says, and holds his chin firm when Arthur tries to duck his head again.
"Do you want me to punish you tonight, Arthur?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you want me to beat you with the crop?"
"Please, sir."
"Do you want to suck my cock tonight?"
In answer Arthur raises his hands to start undoing Percival's fly, and Percival lets him, lets him draw out his cock and lovingly kiss the head.
"Okay," he says, pushing at the sides of Arthur's jaw now to urge it open. "You can have this first, then I'll tie you up and hurt you, does that sound good?"
Arthur's got his mouth full already but he moans, yes, that sounds perfect, he'll hurt him and then he'll be all right.
Percival cups the back of Arthur's head as his cock swells and he starts to thrust into Arthur's throat. "All right then," he says, "good boy," his voice low, happy, and only a little resigned, "welcome home."
*
By the time Percival hooks the leash to the collar Arthur's feeling easy and at peace, as he always does after Percival's used him.
But once he's tied it to the headboard Arthur's less sure. There's too much give to the leash, and even though Percival's positioned Arthur's hands on the bedposts, Arthur thinks he'd be better off if his wrists were secured.
But the whole thing's meaningless if Arthur tries to make all those little decisions for himself. It was already presumptuous of him to buy the crop and bring it over without consulting the man who's going to use it, he can see that now. So as Percival's leaning over and handling him and asking, "Does this feel all right?" Arthur just nods.
He still thinks it's going to be good until the first time the crop lands on his ass. Because he's been wanting this too long, and the sting is far too small. He grits his teeth but after a few more smacks he groans in frustration, and Percival says, "Is it too much? Want to take a break?"
Arthur nods, finds his voice but can only say, "Yeah, let's…"
With just the collar it's easy to roll over onto his back. He spreads his legs and pulls Percival on top of him, kisses his mouth sloppily, and relishes the burn as his ass rubs against the mattress.
Percival: Talked to guy at the club who works with couples. Want to do a session
Arthur: Works?
Percival: Sex stuff. Kink. You and me could use some work baby.
Arthur: Just want to have a good time with you. I don't want therapy!
Percival: Come over tonight and I'll show you a good time.
*
"If I suck your cock will you stop trying to get me to talk about my feelings?"
"You'll suck my cock when I tell you to," Percival says, and not in the stern commander way Arthur likes to fantasize about. He sounds annoyed, tired as he leans back on the couch. Arthur's equally exasperated and a little wounded, considering that his attempts at makeouts have gone nowhere tonight. Fine, damn it, he'll try.
"Hey," he says, taking Percival's hand. "It was a joke…mostly. I'm not trying to be difficult or…avoid doing, whatever, if you think it's important."
Percival nods, places a gentle, possessive hand around Arthur's neck, and holds it there for a minute before he starts undoing the collar.
Arthur sighs. "I guess I can't really do a lot of negotiating when I'm wearing that."
"Yeah, especially since you're gagging for my cock pretty much all the time."
Arthur smiles and closes his eyes, replaying the sentence in his mind a few times while he lets himself be handled.
"And you know what?" Percival says. "It never gets old. You're so fucking sexy, baby." He puts the collar in Arthur's hand and holds it on Arthur's leg. "And every time you go down on your knees for me, every time you open your mouth. Every time you open up your legs and offer me that sweet ass, I think, how the hell did I get so lucky? I can't believe it. But then I can't help thinking, how long is this gonna last?"
The little cloud of bliss Arthur's been drifting on pops out of existence, and he opens his eyes. Licks his lips. "You don't think we can just keep doing this?" he asks after a few tries.
"I don't know what to think. I sure never thought I'd be with someone as hot as you, and here you are, you show up at my apartment, wearing my fucking collar and offering me a blowjob. You're the best thing that every happened to me, and it's probably crazy of me to think we could make this even better."
Yes, Arthur wants to say, so leave it alone, but he dials that back to "Maybe," and then, "so what do you think would make it better?"
"I think you need to tell me."
Arthur snorts. "You know what I want." He's always saying it's obvious.
"Yeah," Percival says fondly, and draws him close to kiss him on the lips. "Your body is fucking eloquent, Arthur. It's so good at telling me how much you want to be mine, how much you want my cock in you, right?"
Arthur nods shyly.
"And then sometimes your body tells me you're not getting enough, or what I'm giving you isn't working. And that's when I need a little more info than you can give me without words. I need to know why it's not working. I need to know what's missing."
Arthur reaches for Percival's thigh and squeezes it softly while he searches for words. "I'm trying," he says, and Percival waits for him to think some more. Arthur takes a breath and jumps in. "So it's… I haven't done most of this stuff before. I've had boyfriends, I've had sex, but it was always the…the kind everybody knows about, so you don't have to worry about…names, or roles, any of that; it's hard, because it's new."
"You've been wanting it for a long time."
"But I haven't asked for it. There hasn't been anybody I could ask without... And now there's you, and I'm like you, I can't believe I'm this lucky. And I'm. I'm not afraid anymore that I'm gonna freak you out. But I'm afraid of asking too much."
It's a great, unexpected relief to fall silent knowing that he's actually said something substantive this time. Even better when Percival folds him in a hug and says, "Thank you." They settle back and Arthur takes a sip of water. Percival says, "Thank you for trusting me, Arthur. I'm glad you know I'm not gonna freak out. And if it ever gets to be too much for me…hey, trust me to tell you."
Arthur nods. It's a lot of stuff he knows already. He sits up, leans forward, realizing on some level that he feels more confident when he's arguing. "So what I don't get is, how is your solution to bring in a stranger? I mean, think about how long it's taken us to get to this point, even with you being so awesome and accepting –"
"And you being so passionate and so brave –"
"Right, whatever, we're both awesome, but if we've got all that going for us and it's still this hard, I can't even think about…going out to some club and letting you…and with this expert sex consultant you've started discussing me with –"
"Arthur."
"Yeah, you get the idea, I'll shut up now."
"You don't have to shut up."
"Want to!" He takes a long drink of water while Percival considers the question.
"I'll be honest, I don't know if it's gonna make things any easier for you. But I think you can handle it, and I think I need it. You've got a lot of ideas, baby, and you're getting better about sharing them with me. You want to go a lot of places, and I want to go there with you. But you can't assume I know the way already. Look, I'm a big guy and I'm really good at fucking you, right?"
"Damn straight."
"Thanks, man. But that doesn't mean I know everything there is to know about BDSM, okay? I'm working at this too."
"If you ask me you're doing pretty great."
"But you want me to hit harder."
"I don't…"
"And you know I can. I know I can. But knowing where to stop? Especially when I'm still struggling to get you to talk to me at all…that's not something I can trust myself with, not yet. So I'm saying, you want me to be in charge, let me actually take the lead for once. Give this a try for me."
Arthur had a lot of other arguments a minute ago – mostly variations on privacy, discretion, my job, the money – but as he thinks about articulating them now they keep coming back to him as selfish, selfish, selfish.
"You get that this is gonna be hard for me," he says aloud.
"Yes. I also believe it's gonna be great for us."
"Okay." He lifts the collar up to his neck again and sighs with relief when Percival starts doing the clasp for him. "Okay, tell me what comes next."
Arthur fumbles with the wrapping paper, his fingers half numb, and belatedly he empathizes with last month's Percival, confused about the status of their relationship and having no idea what to expect when he opens the box.
Arthur's always given his friends and boyfriends a lot of presents. It only seemed natural, since he's always had money and he's always been eager to please. Lately he's been trying to hold back, let Percival decide how to surprise him. But since tonight's a special occasion, and in the spirit if mutual flexibility, they agreed they'd each get something for the other to wear.
In the end they both get their presents open at the same time, and Arthur has to laugh, breaking the tension in the air as each of them pulls a bright red garment out of his respective box. Percival has the velvet jacket Arthur picked out for him last week, and Arthur has a pair of Calvin Klein briefs (so brief, so tiny they will leave nothing to the imagination, he understands at once) in a mess of pink and white tissue paper.
"Who says we aren't made for each other?" Percival says, chuckling.
"I thought it would like nice with those black pants," Arthur offers, "the ones with the…cord."
"Sounds good to me. I thought these would look nice with your collar."
"Yeah," Arthur says, nodding quickly and swallowing.
"And nothing else," Percival clarifies.
"Right." And Arthur grins, because he might as well. "You know, there's really not much point in me being nervous, is there? You've already decided what's going to happen so…I should just let it happen."
"That's right, baby. You don't need to worry about anything tonight. Just do what you're told, and keep silent unless someone tells you to speak, all right? I know you'll be great. You're gonna make me so proud."
Arthur wants to shake his head, but he just looks up into Percival's eyes and says, "I'll try."
*
And that's how it goes, at first. There are other people there and some of them stare, and Arthur always thought he'd be mortified, and maybe some part of him is. But they're all looking at him like a thing, not like a person who dressed himself and is therefore responsible for looking as indecent as he does. They treat him like he's Percival's property, and that feels about right.
They're alone together for a bit and then they're in a room with one other man and some scary looking furniture, but nothing about it is difficult or confusing until Percival undoes Arthur's collar. He's trying to say something encouraging but all Arthur registers is that he's leaving, and Arthur reaches out for him. He grabs an arm because that's close, and it's perfect because he touches the red jacket, and underneath it is Percival's strength, so familiar, so reassuring.
With Percival pressing down on his shoulders, it's easy to sink to his knees. He lets Percival spread his legs and slip on the metal cuffs. Percival has Arthur bend forward and rest his chest on a black padded board, his elbows on the floor, and another pair of cuffs go around his wrists. Last of all Percival hooks another collar around Arthur's neck. It's mounted on a rod, binding him to the stockade and forcing him to hold up his head and face forward. Arthur's muscles strain slightly in the odd position – when he first glimpsed the device he expected to end up with his ass high in the air, but the cuffs keep him spread low, with an awkward weight on the inside of his knees.
"I'll be right here watching you," Percival promises, giving Arthur a brief kiss on the lips before he draws away. "Just be good, and keep your eyes on me." He walks backwards toward the wall and Arthur obeys gratefully, licking his lips when Percival takes off the jacket and lays it beside him on the bench where he sits down.
Arthur isn't distracted by the noises the other man's making, but when Percival breaks eye contact with Arthur to stare past him, when he spreads his legs and goes visibly hard, Arthur twists instinctively, wanting to see what Percival sees.
The collar holds him in place, though, and the man spanks his ass at the same time he speaks directly to Arthur for the first time, chiding him, "None of that, now." It's just a light smack, with the weirdly cool texture of a latex glove, but the intimacy of it shocks Arthur, in a way that being stripped and restrained in front of this stranger had so far failed to do. "We'll teach you to be a good boy," the man says cheerfully while pushing a gloved, lubed finger into Arthur's hole. "You're going to please Percival tonight. You're going to show him how good you can be." He laughs low and confident when his probing finger makes Arthur whimper. "That's it. I'm going to put a plug in you now, get you ready for your master's cock. Or are you such a slut that you don't need it?"
Yes, of course Arthur's ready for Percival's cock now. He can take it without prep.
What he doesn't know how to handle is this discussion. Does being asked if he's a slut count as being told to speak? Apparently not, since his master's answering for him (Yes, of course he's a slut, and Arthur's not allowed to hang his head, but god, he never thought it would feel so good, to hear someone else call him "your master", as if there's nothing strange or shameful about that). Arthur screws his mouth and his eyes shut, but he can't stop the whine from escaping when the man rubs the plug against his hole. Is that against the rules? Is he making a fool of himself and embarrassing his master by being such a slut for this stranger and his toys? The stranger slaps his ass again and this time Arthur's not sure why. Fuck.
"It's all right, baby," says Percival, suddenly close. Arthur can smell him before he opens his eyes on a cock inches away from his face. "You need this? Come on, I'm gonna make you feel so good."
And it's true, once Arthur's got Percival's cock in his mouth and Percival's fingers combing through his hair and Percival's voice praising him he's home again. And it doesn't matter so much that the hard little prick that's fucking him is in someone else's hand; it's still Percival that's doing it to him, with help.
So even when Percival steps back again (his cock jutting out in front of him, wet with precum and Arthur's spit) Arthur can calmly watch him go, relax against the chest pad, all the while feeling the plug go in and out, knowing soon he'll have his master's big cock inside him instead.
It's the stranger's voice, low and rough, telling him to count, but it's still his master's order, and Arthur's determined to obey. Only when the first blow comes down, the countless tails whipping all over Arthur's back, the sensation's so great, so exactly what he's always wanted, along with the knowledge that Percival's given it to him…for a moment he can't remember any words.
"One!" he shouts triumphantly. Yes, he'll do this for Percival, he'll give what he can. "Two," his voice is breaking already, and the sting on his back pricks in his eyes as the tears start to fall. "Three," he might as well be calling out already, fuck me, fuck me, please give me your cock! "Four," he sobs, knowing this is only the beginning, but he'll go on counting, and he will beg, and Percival will give him everything he wants. He will, he will.