I wish you would write a fic where...
Martin is restrained and Gabe worships his body or it goes into the overstimulation direction but maybe both is OOC or reverse it Gabe seemed to like being at Martin's command a little bit
I like the way you think, and I think we can all agree that Gabriel is way past due some love and attention ;)
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The wax had been Gabriel’s idea.
The fact that he’s the one laid out on a hotel bed on his stomach, hands tied and between Martin’s knees however, had not been a part of his original plan. Even if it too had been his suggestion.
They’d scheduled this weekend months ago. He’s not sure what it is that keeps them from crossing that last boundary into visiting each other. They just haven’t, not yet. So it’s hotels. Usually somewhere near the half-way point between the two of them. Once in a blue moon it’s somewhere else entirely. Somewhere nicer, a mini holiday meeting up for sex and then drifting apart again.
Neither of them are keen on spending too long away from home. Scared to not be there if a certain someone comes knocking. They don’t ever say that though. It’s a silent sort of understanding. Visible only in the way that they both get restless after a few days away. Happy to be spending time together but their minds always partially somewhere else. So it's hotels. And only for a couple of days. But it works for them.
This time Gabriel had wanted to introduce Martin to something new. Something he’s been meaning to bring up for a while now, but always too cautious of Martin’s limits. He’s no prude, exactly, but he finds the world of kinks and fetishes that Gabriel and Noah are so familiar with to be a little much sometimes. That doesn’t stop him from showing interest though, and Gabe has gotten good at drip feeding him the milder stuff.
This time he’d brought some of his candles along. Just as a suggestion.
Martin had seemed intrigued by the idea, but he’d been apprehensive about the pain, even if Gabriel had promised it was on the lower end of the scale.
Which is why Gabriel is the one face down in the sheets. His hands are tied behind his neck, out of Martin’s way.
The cowboy is sat straddling Gabe’s thighs. One hand gently touching the planes of his bare back, the other carefully holding the candle upright, scared to accidentally spill anything. Scared to start, too. Gabriel realizes.
“Go on, just how I showed you.”
Martin shifts, uncertain. “And if I do it wrong?”
“You won’t. Promise.” He’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t mind if Martin burned him. Wouldn’t mind if the mark stuck around for a while. Hot and angry on his skin.
“Right. Want a head’s up before I pour this on you?” It’s endearing how cautious he is. Always treating Gabriel like he’s fragile. Even while he's is struggling to fit the bulk of him underneath himself. It’s sweet. Gabriel isn’t used to being on the receiving end of this sort of treatment. People tend to look at him and think yeah, this one can take some heavy handling. And it’s not that they’re wrong, either.
“Nah. I’m ready.” He tries to keep his voice level, but truth be told, being at Martin’s mercy never stops feeling so intensely novel to him. He’s been belly down on the bed for the better part of twenty minutes, letting Martin get settled and his hands tied. Giving the wax a chance to melt. He can feel the damp spot on the spare sheet under his crotch. He’s been achingly hard since they stepped into the room. Near desperate since their roles got spontaneously reversed.
He really should ask Martin to take charge more often.
He flinches when hot liquid dribbles across the back of his shoulders. A steady line of heat on the knife’s edge of too much. The breath shudders out of him as he forces his muscles to relax, easing into the pleasant sting of it as if starts to cool.
“Shit. Too much?” Martin’s free hand is back to petting at his yet untouched skin, careful to not disturb his work. He sounds a little concerned, but his voice is rough in that way it often is when he’s turned on. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Gabriel can’t turn his head enough to look at him, but he lets Martin see the edge of his smile. “You’re a natural, sweetheart.” He shifts his hips, only succeeding to make the crotch situation worse. “Keep going.”
Martin follows the first line up with another right below it. This time Gabriel is expecting it, but the sensation of the wax hitting his skin still makes him clench his fists against the urge to squirm. He’s breathing through grit teeth as the burn starts to fade, but then Martin adds another line, following the dip of his spine, and Gabriel can’t hold back the pained moan that rattles out of him.
“That’s it.” Martin praises him softly, giving him a moment to catch his breath. “Beautiful.”
“Fuck.” He’s no longer trying to be subtle about the way he’s grinding his cock against the mattress. Something about the way Martin’s strong thighs flex against him to follow his movement isn’t helping in the least. “I might come just from this, I think.” He means it as an apology. Usually them meeting up ends with Martin below him. It tends to be most convenient that way. Takes a lot of the pressure off of Martin not needing to get it up.
“Don’t hold back. Let me take care of ya.”
“Y-yeah?” He stutters over the word when Martin dribbles another line down his back. “Enjoying yourself?” Martin gives him another. Followed by another. The three of them close enough together to have Gabriel writhing involuntarily. Breath caught in his lungs. “F-fuck. Martin.”
Martin gives him a second to settle down. For his senses to come back to him. “Enjoyin’ the view.” When he adjusts his position over Gabriel’s thighs, he shifts forwards, and the tell-tale bulge in his jeans becomes obvious against Gabriel’s ass. “Think I like this wax stuff. Looks real pretty.”
Martin getting hard is a rare enough occurrence that the feeling of him makes Gabriel suddenly regret the fact that he’s got his hands tied. He’d do anything to get his hands on that cock, or his mouth, anything.
Gabriel pushes back against him pointedly, almost jostling Martin off balance. “Get those jeans off and fuck me.”
The hand Martin has wrapped around the side of his hip to hold himself steady grips him tighter, callouses rough against his skin. “M’not gonna stay hard, Gabe.”
Literally nothing could matter less to him right now. Not when he’s got that prominent bulge grinding against him every time he shifts. “Don’t care. Just get in me.”
Martin hesitates, and Gabriel waits him out. He knows asking might be too much, that it might be enough for Martin to start flagging. But he’s never been more desperate to get a cock in him than he is this one.
“Martin.”
“Need lube.”
It’s the most beautiful two words he’s ever heard anyone say in his life. “On the floor, by my boots.”
Martin doesn’t even get off of him to get it off the floor. He just leans, knees locked around Gabe’s sides to keep him in place. It shouldn’t be hot but Gabriel is learning a lot about himself and Martin’s thigh’s lately.
“Pour a line when you put one in.” He forces out, already so far gone it’s almost embarrassing. He’s not used to being the one that’s begging, the one that’s giving up control. He feels like he’s had his foundations ripped out from under him. Dangerously unsteady.
Martin complies. Doesn’t waste any time being overly gentle. Not anymore. They both know there’s a time limit now, before the chance has passed them by.
The dual feeling of heat hitting his side and a finger bullying itself into him knocks the breath clean out of him on a shameless moan. He can distantly feel the dried wax on his back crack as his muscles contract, lifting away from his skin, letting cool air reach the reddened lines below it.
“Easy there, be careful.” Martin murmurs almost reverently, caught up in the display in front of him. He doesn’t give Gabriel a warning when he adds another, but underlines it with the slow drag of a line of hot wax. This one hits the small of Gabe’s back. It makes his hips buck to get away from the sting, but that only ruts his cock harder into the bed, and when he twitches away from the too-much-friction, he’s pushing back onto Martin’s fingers. And oh, he’s clever with them.
He finds Gabriel’s prostate like he knows exactly where to press, and he rubs the pads of his fingers against it almost apologetically as Gabriel desperately sucks air back into his lungs. “Shit, stop, stop, m’not gonna last.”
Martin blessedly eases up. “Another?”
Gabriel shakes his head like mad. “No. I’m ready, come on.”
He’s scared Martin is going to protest. But as it turns out, he’s not the only one at the end of his tether. The sound of his zipper coming undone is loud in Gabriel’s ears. Apparently too impatient to get his jeans all the way off. The rough denim and cold metal teeth is jarring to his oversensitive skin, but it’s good. So fucking good. “Come on, please.”
Martin shushes him. Hurrying to figure out the logistics of how to get everything situated. Candle in one hand, cock in the other while spreading Gabriel open so he can get inside him.
He catches himself holding his breath as Martin gets himself lined up, so he exhales slowly, trying to steady himself.
It all goes out the window the second Martin pushes in. There’s a hissed and frantic curse, and then a splash of wax hits the small of Gabriel’s back in a large puddle. Searing hot to match the burn of the stretch as Martin tips forwards and sinks all the way into him. Swearing under his breath like he can’t stop himself.
Terrified that his little spill is going to put him off. Gabriel finds the quick release on the knot around his hands and pulls it. The ropes come away easily and he doesn’t even bother throwing them to the side before he reaches back to grip Martin’s thigh, holding him flush against him. “Move.”
Too far gone to disobey an order, Martin starts to pull out slowly, only allowed to go so far before Gabriel is urging him back in. Together they set a rhythm that has Gabriel fisting his free hand into the sheets.
In the year that they’ve been having sex, Gabriel has never been lucky enough to be allowed to bottom for Martin. He’s gotten off countless times imagining what that would be like, sitting on a toy or full of his own fingers, thinking the stars might not ever align in a way that would allow it. If he’d known a bit of wax would be all it took, he would have brought out the candles a long time ago.
Unfortunately for him, Martin is just as clever with his cock as he is with his fingers, and he’s hitting his mark so consistently Gabriel isn’t even able to warn him off before he’s shooting off into the hotel linens, sent clean over the edge by the feeling of Martin’s hand cracking the wax underneath it as he leans on Gabriel’s study shoulder to get more leverage.
Coming is so far below the feeling of Martin still rock hard inside of him, close to the end himself if the desperate faltering of his rhythm is anything to go by.
Gabriel can't keep his mouth shut anymore. Needs Martin to know how this affects him. “No idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
Martin groans, purposefully grinding his palm into the red-hot lines framing Gabe’s back.
“Feel so fucking good. Filling me up so well.”
That’s the final straw for Martin. He plants a hand on the back of Gabriel’s neck when he comes, like he’s wanting to hold him still. Gabe doesn’t move. Just revels in every little sliver he can get of Martin being assertive. Likes him best that way.
He collapses down onto Gabe’s back when he’s trembling through the aftershocks. The solid weight of him pleasant if not for the way he’s trapping pieces of dried wax between them. Loathe to move him, Gabe allows it until he’s caught his breath, then he’s flipping over, tipping Martin off him into the sheets so he can bracket him with his arms to kiss him.
Kissing Martin isn’t like kissing anyone else. There’s a rawness to him that feels so terribly real. Gritty, like the rest of him. Makes Gabriel think of the dirt staining his boots.
“Good?” Martin breathes into the kiss before Gabriel is back on him.
This unreal, saint of a man. “Are you crazy? Never had anything like it.”
It’s Martin that pushes him away eventually. Breathing hard. “Christ, I can’t keep up with you.”
Gabriel just chuckles and settles down next to him, manhandling the poor fool until he’s got his head on Gabe’s chest. The bed is covered in flakes of wax, despite their best efforts to contain it. It’s a problem for later. For now, he’s going to lay in it, basking in the fact that he’s going to be sore tomorrow from taking Martin’s cock.
