Sexy Saturday
(Sal Saturday - Because he is haunting this narrative).
Here's what I've been working on for the last few weeks. It's pure, unadulterated smut. BuckTommy, with hint SalBuck and future SalBuckTommy. It's an excerpt from a much larger WIP.
Inspired by the idea of Sal and Tommy wearing the same jacket.
It's veering heavily into BDSM, with elements of D/s, Daddy Kink, and bondage. It's also very a very rough draft. Not your cup of tea, please scroll on.
Did I mention it's 5900 words of smut?
Love is an Aperture - Random Chapter
Buck rocks back on his heels, hands in the pockets of the tan jacket that runs a little too big for him, and waits for Tommy to open his door. It’s late, but given the fact that Tommy had responded immediately to Buck’s texts, he knows the man is going to be awake.
He doesn’t need to wait long before Tommy is throwing open the door, wearing a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, and nothing else. His eyes are narrowed, and with his sharp features and cleft chin it would almost look severe. Buck can see the spark in Tommy’s eyes though, barely suppressed mirth brought on by Buck’s persistent energy.
Raking his eyes up and down Buck’s body, taking in the tousled hair, stretched collar, and too big jacket, Tommy raises an eyebrow and cock’s his head to one side. “That’s not your jacket.”
“I borrowed it,” Buck tells him, like that explains everything. He grins, cheekily, before biting his bottom lip. “You going to invite me in?”
Tommy steps aside, and invites Buck in with a sweeping gesture of one strong arm. Buck steps inside, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
The door has barely closed behind them before Tommy is on him, hands tangling in his hair. Tommy holds his head in place, and devours him. Buck is backed against the wall, completely surrounded. Still grinning, Buck leans his head back, giving Tommy full access to his neck. There’s bruising along Buck’s jaw, but the lights in Tommy’s hallway are going to be too dim for Tommy to see them.
Tommy takes the bait, and latches onto the exposed skin of Buck’s neck. The sensation goes straight to his gut, and Buck moans at the feeling of Tommy sucking more marks onto his skin. Buck’s hands move, unbidden, tracing up Tommy’s back. His fingers curl into the meat of Tommy’s shoulders, hard enough to leave bruises of his own.
Tommy grunts and pulls back, only to dive back in and attack the other side, leaving matching bruises along his throat. Tommy is breathing heavy when he finally pulls back; Buck imagines Tommy can smell the cologne on him, and it makes him smile wider, mouth open. His breath comes in pants past his lips.
“You didn’t even shower before you came here, did you?” Tommy growls shoving the jacket off Buck’s shoulder, like the item of clothing has personally offended him. It falls to the floor, and Tommy is on him again, hands under his shirt, skimming over bare skin. He wastes no time pulling the shirt over Buck’s head and dropping it to the floor.
“No, Daddy,” Buck acknowledges, looking at Tommy through his lashes. “I didn’t want to wait.”
Tommy grabs him by the jaw, forcing him look at Tommy. “Didn’t want to wait for what, Evan?”
The use of his name grabs his attention more than the pressure on his jaw. It’s part check in, part game. He spoils Buck, always giving him exactly what he needs, even when he doesn’t know how to ask for it. Buck considers telling Tommy something else, to prolong the game, but the need is too much.
“I didn’t want to wait for you to fuck me,” Buck tells him earnestly.
Still holding Buck’s jaw, Tommy tilts his head to the side, considering. He must see the bruises on Buck’s jaw, because his grin turns vicious. “Did your Sir not fill you well enough? You needed to come here and have your Daddy take care of you?”
“He told me I was insatiable,” Buck admits, meeting Tommy’s eyes in challenge. “He said I needed two people to keep me satisfied.”
It’s not the first time someone’s called him needy, but in the context it doesn’t feel like an insult. Somehow, having two lovers has turned into this strange, intense competition, staking their claim over Buck’s body. The feeling of being valued and wanted in this capacity is beyond compare.
Buck’s admission is rewarded by Tommy hoisting him up to wrap his legs around Tommy’s hips, causing a jolt of pleasure to course through his body. Wrapping his arms around Tommy’s shoulders, he buries his face in Tommy’s neck and inhales the musky scent. He’s never going to get over having a lover who can pick him up like it’s nothing.
Carrying him down the hall, Tommy growls in his ear. “Maybe he’s just not up to the task.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Buck replies before sinking his teeth into the meat of Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy grips him tighter, fingers digging into his thighs, like the idea does something for him. It certainly gives Buck ideas.
“You’re such a brat, baby boy,” Tommy grunts, bringing him down the hall to the bedroom. He drops him unceremoniously onto the bed, looking down on him with a heated gaze that has his body flushed all over.
“What are you going to do about it?” Buck asks, wetting his lips. He props himself up on his elbows and looks up at Tommy through his lashes.
Tommy shrugs, climbing onto the bed pushing Buck’s chest to force him flat on his back. Buck goes willingly, letting his body go lax. Large hands grip his thighs, moving him to where Tommy wants him.
Tommy makes quick work of pulling Bucks pants down over his hips, and this his fingers are trailing between his cheeks. Buck lifts one leg to wrap around Tommy’s waist, giving him easy access to the surprise waiting for him. Fingers find, then trace around the flared base of the plug. Tommy pulls back and meet’s Buck’s expectant stare.
“This is new,” Tommy comments, tapping the base. Buck clenches around it, and groans. Tommy continues staring, searching Buck’s face for something.
Buck smiles back, but inside the terror is trying to crawl its way out of his throat. They’ve been playing this game for months now, leaving bruises on Buck’s skin, little Easter eggs to be found at the next encounter. This, though, is more blatant. Buck worries it’s going to be too much.
“It’s a present,” Buck tells him earnestly, hiding the turmoil he’s feeling. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
“From you?” Tommy asks, though it’s obvious from his tone that expects he already knows the answer.
Shaking his head in a short, quick burst, Buck tells him, “No, Daddy. It’s a present from Sir, for you.”
Of all the responses, it’s obvious that was not one of the options Tommy had entertained. He pulls back, face twisted in aroused confusion, eyes flicking from Buck’s face, to the plug, and back again.
“He fucked me open for you, Daddy,” Buck explains, tone caught between shy and excited. Despite his fear that Tommy is going to call it off, he’s never been so hard in his life. Tommy’s breath catches, and he feels emboldened. “He got me nice and loose for you, so you could just pull the plug out and slide right in. Even added extra lube so I’d be ready.”
Buck’s thighs tremble, and he closes his eyes at the memory of his other lover playing with his oversensitive hole, adding the lube and sliding the plug in and out until Buck was begging for another orgasm. He hadn’t been allowed to come, told instead to save it for his Daddy. He just hopes this isn’t the thing that scares Tommy off.
Eyes still closed, he feels Tommy tap at the base on the plug again. Tommy lets out a noise, a cross between a hum and a groan, because no matter how aloof Tommy tries to play it, he’s always been turned on by Buck’s antics. “And why does your other man think this is something I might want?”
Tommy’s tone is clinical, but Buck can feel his cock pressing hard and hot between them. Opening his eyes, he meets Tommy’s gaze and wets his lips again.
“Because I told him, Daddy,” Buck tells him, face breaking into a sly grin when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and mouth drop open. “I told him how hot you get when I tell you about everything he’s done to me. How you told me I looked so good stuffed full of cock. He thought you might like the idea of having his leftovers.”
The groan Tommy lets out this time is guttural, and without warning he’s grabbed Buck and has him flipped onto his hands and knees. Buck is not small, and he’s usually he one on hand to subdue combative patients, so he’s struck dumb that Tommy is able to manhandle him so easily.
Without a chance to recover, Tommy grabs the base of the plug without warning and removes it. Two fingers push into his used hole with none of the gentleness Tommy usually exhibits. Buck’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and if he hadn’t already come twice that evening, he’d be shooting his load all over the sheets.
“What else did you tell him?” Tommy growls in his ear, fingers pressing brutally against his prostate. Buck wants to respond, but his tongue feels too big for his mouth, and all he can do his moan into the pillow beneath him. Cruelly, Tommy pulls his fingers free, leaving Buck feeling open and empty. “Well, are you going to tell me, or do I need to spank it out of you?”
And that isn’t something they’ve done before, but now that it’s on the table Buck wants it, so badly. Dropping his chest to the mattress, he arches his back, pushing his hips back.
“Yes, please,” he groans into the mattress, body swaying.
“What was that,” Tommy asks, voice dropping low and quiet, and Buck knows he’s going to be in trouble. Tommy’s hand cups the globe of his ass, thumb caressing the skin, waiting. Buck remains silent, waiting to see what Tommy will do next, hoping. His hope are dashed when Tommy pulls away. “Are you asking to be spanked?”
Buck whimpers, and pushes his hips back, asking without words. Tommy’s hand returns, firm but gentle, and not at all what Buck wants.
“I don’t think so,” Tommy tells him, hand sliding lazily over Buck’s naked flank. “Only good boys who answer Daddy’s questions get what they want.”
“Please, Daddy,” Buck tries again, turning his head to look back at Tommy over his shoulder.
“Tell me what else you told him, and I’ll give you what you want,” Tommy instructs, voice firm and in control.
“I told him that I wanted you to watch him fuck me,” Buck admits, breathless with need. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the fantasy. With the door open, he finds he can’t stop talking. “I want you to see how good a boy I can be for Sir. How well I can listen. How well I can get him off. I told him that when he was done, and I was all stretched and messy with his come, I wanted you to slide right in while he watches.”
“Good boy,” Tommy whispers softly, with one final caress of his hip. The hand leaves his hip, skin feeling cold without Tommy’s touch. Buck waits, counting his breaths, body tensing in anticipation. He starts to think Tommy is going to leave him hanging, and is about to chance a look over his shoulder to see what Tommy is doing.
He feels the heat blooming through his ass before his mind registers the sharp thwack of hand meeting flesh. Buck bites down on the pillow against the pain when he’s hit twice more in quick succession. The movements are sharp and precise, hand cupped to maximize the sound and impact without causing damage. He’ll be sure to have bright red handprints on both cheeks.
The room fills with a keening noise, and Buck’s hard cock is leaking now, desperate to be touched. There’s water running down his cheeks, and he realizes absently that he’s crying.
Tommy’s hand returns, gentle, to sooth the marks he left. “Shh, baby. You did so well. We’re going to talk about this more later. For now, what’s your colour?”
“Green, Daddy,” Buck sighs out, drifting and desperate for more.
“That’s good, baby. You’re doing so well.” Tommy’s voice is gentle now, like a caress, and Buck feels himself sink further into the bed. Tommy’s fingers slide between his cheeks again, testing his rim, he drizzles more lube, until he’s practically dripping with it. “Do you still want me to fill your needy hole?”
Buck tries to clench around nothing, nodding his head into the pillow, trying to smother his whine when Tommy steps back to roll a condom over his length. He feels desperate for it.
“I need you to tell me with words, baby. What do you want?” Tommy’s hands return, trailing soft caresses over his skin.
“Please Daddy!” Buck turns his head to cry out. “I need your cock. I feel so empty.”
Buck can hear the smile in Tommy’s voice when he says, “Good boy, Evan. I’m so proud of you, asking for what you need.”
He can’t help but preen under the praise, and is reward by Tommy lining up the thick head of his erection against his entrance. He only has to wait a moment before Tommy is pushing in without resistance. He’s wet and messy with lube, and Tommy bottoms out effortlessly, causing both of them to groan. Buck whimpers, imagining that instead of lube it’s his Sir’s seed leaking out around Tommy’s cock. He bites the pillow to keep from crying out.
“None of that,” Tommy orders, voice low and guttural as his fingers twist into the hair at the nape of Buck’s neck. He pulls Buck’s head up from the pillow, forcing Buck to follow and prop himself up on his forearms. “I want to be able to hear everything, sweet boy. Show me how much you’re enjoying it.”
Hand still twined in Buck’s hair, Tommy slowly draws out, letting Buck feel every inch. He pulls out all the way, leaving Buck empty and clenching around nothing. He keens at the loss, but before he can beg for more Tommy is pushing back in, pulling on Buck’s hair.
Buck wails.
It’s not performative; Tommy has made a point of figuring out how to wring every ounce of pleasure from Buck’s body. Tommy fills him, aiming unerringly at his prostate, and strikes the perfect balance between pleasure and pain.
With another snap of his hips, Tommy pulls Buck’s hair again, forcing his head back. Buck’s neck arches, and he tries to push back against Tommy’s thrusts.
“How many times did he get you off?” Tommy demands, leaning over to press his chest against Buck’s back.
“Twice,” Buck tells him quickly, eyes rolling back as he chases the next one.
“I bet I can give you three,” Tommy grunts by his ear. He releases his grip on Buck’s hair, and slides his hands to Buck’s hips. Buck drops back to the mattress, but keeps back arched, allowing Tommy to hit the perfect angle. “Do you think you have three in you, baby boy? I bet you can come just from my cock.”
“Yes, Daddy. Please!” Buck pleads, because he desperately wants to orgasm, and because he knows how much Tommy enjoys watching him come apart, untouched. He’s so turned on from the edging earlier and this game that it isn’t going to take long for Tommy to wring the first orgasm out of him.
Hands digging finger-shaped bruises into his hips, Tommy starts to fuck into him, pulling Buck’s body onto his cock. Each thrust hits his prostate, causing him to see stars behind his closed eyelids. It feels like sparks of electricity are shooting up his spine, and the heat pooling in his belly is about to hit a boiling point.
“Come for me, baby.” Tommy orders, and from the slight tremble in his voice, Buck knows he’s close as well. “Don’t hold back. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel.”
Buck couldn’t hold back, even if he wanted to. He comes with a punched-out groan, spilling his release onto the bedding below him, clenching around Tommy’s cock. Tommy thrusts behind him, twice more, then presses all the way in, hips twitching, filling the condom.
They stay connected, only Tommy’s hands on his hips keeping him from falling into the wet spot he’s made. Tommy only slips out when he starts to soften, then he lets go of Buck’s hips and goes to tie off the condom and toss it towards the trash.
With hands gentler than Buck deserves, Tommy guides him away from the mess on the sheets and onto his back. Crawling between Buck’s legs, hovering hover him, scent surrounding him, Tommy dips his head down to catch Buck’s lips in a filthy kiss. It’s hot, and wet; Tommy licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue.
Arms weak, Buck brings his hands up to card through Tommy’s hair and cup his jaw while they kiss. The tenderness of the gesture strikes harder than the scrape of Tommy’s teeth over his bottom lip.
Tommy lowers his weight onto Buck, lying chest to chest, so that Buck feels, pinned, wrapped in warmth. He feels Tommy smile against his cheek. “That’s one. Two more to go.”
Buck shudders against the promise, worried he might have overestimated his abilities, but he can’t say no to Tommy.
“Can you keep your hands to yourself, baby boy, or do you need the ties?” Tommy asks, sitting up between Buck’s thighs.
Looking up at Tommy, blinking slow, Buck considers his options. Tommy enjoys seeing Buck obey his commands, but he also enjoys the ropes. He’s commented on the way the blue silk ropes contrast against Buck’s skin, and takes pride in his knot work. Tommy always makes sure Buck has access to a quick release pull so he’s bound but not trapped.
“Ties please, Daddy,” Buck asks, bringing his wrists together in front of him.
With a succinct nod of his head, Tommy is leaning across Buck’s body to reach into drawer at the side of the bed and grabs a small coil of dark blue rope. He makes quick work of binding Buck’s wrists together, lose enough for Buck to be able to grab the trailing end of the rope if he needs to make a quick escape. It’s not pretty as the Shibari ties Tommy has used before, but Buck appreciates the consideration.
Hands bound, Tommy carefully moves Buck’s arms over his head and ties the other end of the rope to the bedframe. Secured, Buck sinks into the mattress, and lets Tommy continue to move him as needed. Tommy grabs one of the pillows and encourages Buck to lift his hips so he can slide the pillow into place, clearly preparing for round two.
Trailing kisses down Buck’s smooth chest, Tommy works to build the arousal again. He presses an open mouth kiss against one nipple, uses blunt fingers to pinch and twist the other. Buck’s back arches off the bed, pulling his shoulders, and he groans. Switching sides, Tommy lathes the Buck’s chest with his tongue, and drags one short nail over the nipple. Heat pools in his stomach, arousal building to overstimulation.
“Too much?” Tommy asks, pulling back. He has a smile on his face, but he’s cataloguing Buck’s expression, eyes flicking up to check in on how the ties are sitting on his wrists. “Colour?”
“Green,” Buck answers, without thought or hesitation.
Satisfied with his assessment, and Buck’s response, Tommy shifts down the bed. He glides his hands down Buck’s sides, fingers splayed, then lower to grip the backs of Buck’s thighs. Pushing Buck’s legs back, exposing his ass, Tommy pauses a moment to admire the display.
Buck is hairless, meticulously shaved, so Tommy’s fingers glide over smooth skin. His fingers trace around Buck’s swollen rim, red and puffy, still slick with lube. The muscle clenches, involuntarily, under Tommy’s gaze. Tommy taps his index finger over it a few times, causing Buck to shudder, before he pushes Buck’s legs back further and dives in.
Buck is folded in half, his knees nearly to his chest, when Tommy seals his mouth over Buck’s hole. He pushes his tongue past the rim without resistance. His hands remain in place spreading Buck’s thighs, pinning him as effectively as the wrist ties. The feel of Tommy’s stubble scrapping against his ass is almost too much.
Closing his eyes, Buck cries out. His head thrashes on the pillow, and he tugs at the restraints. He can’t decide if he wants to push onto Tommy’s tongue, or pull away. Folded as he is, he doesn’t have much leverage to move.
His entire entity becomes reduced to the feeling of teeth, and tongue, and lips. It’s wet, and messy, and he’s pretty sure they’re both making obscene noises that would have had the cops called at his old apartment. Tommy likes it when he’s loud, so he has no reason to reign in the sounds pouring from his mouth.
Buck couldn’t tell you how long Tommy spends licking him open, but his legs are starting to tremble and twitch at the stimulation. He’s hard again already, the arousal is thrumming through his whole body, but it’s almost painful.
The addition of a finger sliding in next to Tommy’s tongue has Buck howling. Tommy presses straight for his prostate, then alternates between rubbing and circling motions. His legs start to shake at the sensation.
“I can’t,” Buck cries out, hot tears welling in his eyes.
Tommy pulls his mouth back, and stills his hands. He meets Buck’s eyes. “Colour?”
“Green,” Buck sobs, an automatic response.
“Then you can,” Tommy tells him with a nod before diving back in with renewed vigour.
Buck whites out when he comes, eyes open but unseeing. Sounds fade away, replaced with static in his ears. Tommy doesn’t stop, milking him through it until his body stops shaking.
Awareness comes back slowly, he closes his eyes and focuses on the scratch of Tommy’s stubble against his stomach as Tommy licks the mess clean. He opens his eyes and looks in awe at this beautiful man methodically taking him apart.
Tommy feels the stare, and looks up from between Buck’s legs smiling like the cat that got the canary. “That was two. Are you ready for a third, or do you need a break?”
Brain not fully online yet, Buck tries to take stock of his body. His shoulders are tight, and his body feels like a livewire.
Tommy isn’t looking at him like he has a preference one way or the other; just wearing a fond, indulgent smile.
“A break, please,” Buck decides.
“Good boy,” Tommy tells him, running a soothing hand over Buck’s thighs. “Thank you for telling me what you need.”
Tommy makes quick work unhooking the ties from the headboard, and helps Buck into a seated position. He rubs Buck’s shoulder, and runs a finger under the bindings, checking over Buck’s wrists.
“You want to be untied?” Tommy asks, casually, eyes flicking from Buck’s wrists back to his face. It’s telling.
“I’m good, Daddy,” Buck tells him, and is rewarded with Tommy’s eyes crinkling as his grin grows.
“Good boy,” Tommy repeats, rubbing circles on Buck’s shoulder. “Are you okay if I go and grab some water? Some supplies?”
“Yeah, Daddy,” Buck agrees, and feels the bed dip when Tommy gets up to leave the room.
Buck reminds himself Tommy’s left the quick release on the binding, and that he can get up if he needs to. He trusts that Tommy will be right back, and that Tommy will be pleased to see Buck sitting on the bed when he is.
He can hear Tommy moving about the kitchen, grabbing whatever he’s got in mind. He focuses on the sounds, staring at his bound hands in his lap. He keeps his breathing steady, and waits patiently on the bed for Tommy to return.
It takes longer than Buck would have expected, and his skin is starting to itch, but Tommy finally returns with a small plate of snacks and a reusable water bottle with a straw. He sits on the edge of the bed, legs brushing, and holds up to Buck’s lips. Buck takes a long, greedy sip, and feels Tommy’s eyes on his throat as he does.
“What?” Buck asks, curious to know where Tommy’s head is at.
“It’s nothing.” Tommy shakes his head, still smiling. “How are you feeling?”
“Floaty,” Buck admits, taking another sip of the water. It feels safe to admit it. “A little out of my head.”
A crease forms between Tommy’s brows, and Buck feels his stomach clench, worried he’s said the wrong thing and Tommy is going to pull the plug on the rest of their plans. “Are you okay to continue? We can pick it up in the morning?”
Buck ducks his chin, hiding the motion by taking another sip of the water. He mumbles, “I have a shift in the morning.”
Pulling back, Tommy sits up straight and glances at the alarm clock on the dresser. It’s late; probably too late to continue. He sees the moment that Tommy is going to call it.
He tilts his head to the side, looking up at Tommy through his lashes. He licks his lips again. “You promised me three. You said you’d take care of me.”
Tommy surges forward, kissing him with surprising tenderness. He pushes Buck back onto the mattress, and guides Buck’s hands back up to the headboard. “I will always take care of you, baby boy, give you exactly what you need.”
Allowing Tommy to guide his limbs, Buck settles into the mattress. Tommy palms something from the drawer in the night stand that Buck doesn’t see, grabs the lube and the plug from the bed where he’d tossed them, and settles comfortably between Buck’s thighs.
“Do you think you can get it up again?” Tommy asks him, another question without the weight of expectation.
“I don’t know, Daddy,” Buck tells him, honestly. Four orgasms in a night is a lot, even for him.
“That’s okay, baby boy,” Tommy assures him, smoothing his hands up and down Buck’s thighs. “What are your colours.”
“Green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop,” Buck recites, and sees Tommy nod in response.
“You tell me if you need a break,” Tommy instructs him, picking up the plug and adding lube to it. He shows it to Buck, holding it up, before he brings it between Buck’s legs and slides it home.
Buck moans around the intrusion.
Tommy leans forward and captures the sound in a kiss. They exchange languid, lazy kisses while Tommy slowly fuck’s Buck with the plug. There’s no rhythm to it, Tommy toying Buck with it, eagerly swallowing every gasp and moan.
Buck whines when Tommy pulls away, sitting up to watch Buck’s hole stretch around the plug as he moves it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Tommy tells him. “I should keep you plugged up and tied to my bed all the time. I could come home from work and just slide right in, leave you filled with my come until I’m ready to go again.”
Buck’s eyes widen, a mix of panicked desire. The noise that comes out of his mouth can only be described as a whimper.
“You like the idea,” Tommy asks, fondly, meeting Buck’s eyes again. Buck sees him making a mental note, another idea for future play. Then he pulls the other item out for Buck to see. It’s a small, silver bullet vibe. Buck’s whole body shudders in anticipation.
Tommy presses the small vibe against the soft underside of his cock and turns it on.
Buck immediately cries out, the sensation bringing him past the point of overstimulation. Tommy watches, his other hand working the plug in so that it puts pressure on his prostate. Buck cries out again, sobbing, tears welling in his eyes again.
Tommy works the plug, and adjust the position of the vibe.
“Too much! Too much!” Buck whines, trying to shift away from it. He can’t go far, hands tired to the headboard, thighs spread wide around Tommy’s lap.
“You’ve got one more for me,” Tommy tells him, working Buck over. His eyes rove over Buck’s body, from his bound wrists, to the tears filling his waterline, to the flush spreading over his chest, his pert nipples, down to his flaccid cock and the way his hole is greedily swallowing the plug with each push and pull.
It’s too much. Too much sensation. Too much attention. The ask is too much, and he’s going to fail Tommy. He lets out a keening noise, tears spilling freely down his cheeks. He could be begging, but he doesn’t recognize any of the words spilling past his lips.
“You’ve got one more for me,” Tommy repeats, focusing on pushing the plug against Buck’s prostate and holding the vibe steady with a pressure that is just on the wrong side of too much. “Come for me, baby boy. Give it to Daddy, and this will all be over.”
It’s the goading, and the steadiness of Tommy’s voice are what finally send him over the precipice. He’s still soft when the orgasm hits, and though it’s less intense than normal, to his overwrought body the pleasures boarders on pain. Buck cries out, coming in small, watery pulses, as Tommy looks on in fascination.
Tommy continues to keep the vibe in place, teasing the plug, until Buck is reduced to a mewling mess on the bed. Satisfied, Tommy tosses the vibe aside and slowly eases the plug out until Buck’s hole is twitching around the emptiness.
“I’m so proud of you, my sweet boy,” Tommy tells him, voice a soft caress. He lets his hands slide up Buck’s torso, over the smooth chest and along his arms until he can unhook the ties from the headboard. He takes the time to undo the knots, instead of pulling the release ties, then rubs the skin at Buck’s writs with a callused thumb. “You took it so beautifully, and gave me exactly what I asked for. You did so well.”
Overwhelmed as he is, Buck still preens under the praise. “Anything for you,” he manages to slur out.
Slowly, careful not to jostle the bed, Tommy moves until he’s sitting against the pillows at the head of the bed. With gently hands, he helps Buck into sitting, back to chest, bracketed by Tommy’s limbs. Tommy reaches to the side table and brings the water bottle back for Buck to drink from, his other hand petting Buck’s hair.
They lounge together, without words, while Tommy carefully feeds him small bites of food he’d prepared earlier. Sliced fruit, small cubes of cheese, and chocolate covered pistachios that Tommy had discovered Buck adored by chance.
When the food is done, Buck rests his head back against Tommy’s shoulder. His nerves calm, and his breathing steadies as Tommy’s large hands continue rubbing soothing circles over his arms and thighs. As awareness comes back, Buck realizes Tommy’s hard cock is still pressed against his back.
“I can take care of that for you,” Buck offers, trying to grind his hips back. He feels week as a newborn kitten at this point, but he doesn’t want to leave Tommy wanting. There’s still a lot to offer as a passive participate.
“I’m good, baby boy,” Tommy assures him, his laughter a deep rumble Buck can feel in Tommy’s chest. “I got everything I could have asked for.”
“But I could…” Buck starts to offer, but Tommy cuts him off.
“Evan,” he says, and his voice is gentle and fond. “It’s late, and you’ve already given me everything I could have asked for. Let me take care of you, now, little one.”
Buck sags further against Tommy’s chest, and the other man wraps his arounds around him, pressing kisses against the side of Buck’s neck. Drifting, warm in Tommy’s embrace, Buck has never felt so wanted. He would give anything to keep this feeling.
Eyes closed, Tommy eventually shifts them so they’re lying down on the bed. Tommy covers them with the light quilt, and arranges their limbs so that he remains wrapped around Buck, keeping him safe and warm.
It doesn’t take long for Buck to fall into a deep sleep.
***9-1-1***
He wakes before sun up, still loosely wrapped in Tommy’s embrace. The clock on the dresser blinks 5:45 am, barely enough time to clean up and get to work. He slowly extricates himself from Tommy’s arms, and pads softly to the adjoining bathroom, limbs stiff, muscles pleasantly sore.
The toothbrush that Tommy set out for him the last time remains in the holder where Buck had left it. He lets out a small noise at the sight. They aren’t exclusive, despite informally agreeing to whatever this arrangement is, but Tommy is still making space in his house for him.
He brushes his teeth, borrows a washcloth to wipe the sweat from his body, and borrows Tommy’s deodorant. It’s different from his own, with a fresh, light scent, and it tickles something in the back of his mind knowing he’s going to be on shift smelling like his lover.
He pauses for a moment in the threshold between the bathroom and bedroom, watching Tommy. His features have softened in sleep, and he looks absolutely breathtaking. There’s a vulnerability to him like this that Buck wants to hoard and never let go.
It’s greedy of him, especially since Buck knows he’ll never be able to give the same in return, if it was even something Tommy could consider wanting.
Silently, Buck collects his clothes from the bedroom, and steps into the hallway to get dressed. He finds his shirt in the hallway where Tommy had discarded it, and shrugs it on.
He figures he has time to make a cup of coffee with the basic single serve machine Tommy keeps on his kitchen counter. He grabs a travel mug from the cupboard, engraved with the LAFD logo and the quote “LAFD’s link from the streets to the skies.”
He leaves a note on the counter, just a simple promise to bring the mug back next time, then collects Sal’s jacket from where he’s been hung over the back of a chair.
Buck shrugs the jacket on when he leaves Tommy's house. Wrapping himself in the warmth and scent of it. The air has a slight chill in the morning, and the jacket is a comfort.
There's an odd weight in one of the pockets that wasn't there the night before, though.
Buck reaches his hand in and immediately knows what it is. Soft, supple leather, a metal clasp, and smooth, giving silicone ball. He doesn't pull it out of the pocket; its still early, but there's enough people out and about that it could be problematic There's a folded piece of paper in the pocket as well. This, Buck does pull out.
It's a short note in impressive cursive.
"Thanks for the gift. Our boy mentioned you have thin walls, so here's something you. He's beautiful when he can really let loose."
Tagging the people who are responsible for this coming to be, as well as some people who expressed interest in previous snippets. @sad-girl-hours23, @fenrirscarsback @magdalyna, @thecarrott, @chimneyschewinggum, @fuselsstuff, @loulou-land, @chemistry66, @paperyowl, @emakataken, @wee-fuckin-woo, @owlgirl495, @dreamforrest, @chococara25, @corporatebanana, @cliophilyra, @hellion-child, @bybobbysbeard . Let me know if you want to be added (or removed)
