A/N: This is pretty much just smut, but it fits into my Lester/Becker 'verse that starts with "Promise Not to Try".
Do You Trust Me?
Having spent the weekend with Agatha and the kids, James was enormously grateful to collapse onto his own bed with Becker a heavy yet pleasant weight sprawled half on top of him. It had been an important weekend for Julia and Henry, as it was the opening for the production of Oliver! that they were both involved in. Astonishingly, nothing had gone wrong at the ARC and so James had been able to make it without a hitch. He very nearly hadn't asked Becker to come with, but he'd changed his mind at the last minute and it had been well-worth it just to see Becker's undisguised look of pleased surprise.
While Henry had been a part of the orchestra, playing the oboe, Julia had played the role of Nancy's friend Bet. James had thought he might burst from the pride of watching his talented children, Agatha squeezing his hand so hard he was surprised she hadn't cut off the circulation, Becker's arm casually slung around James' waist.
Julia had hugged him hard afterwards, her smile lighting up the room, and Henry had even managed to be pleasant to Becker, which was a miracle in and of itself (it may have had something to do with Agatha's watchful gaze).
Even though it had been a nice weekend, all in all, James always felt relieved to be back in his own flat. Weekends with the kids were usually a disaster waiting to happen, but they had survived. Besides, James always felt like when he was at Agatha's he needed to be restrained, to keep his attentions to Becker at a minimum, to hold him at a distance.
So, yes, he was happy to be home, where he could be utterly himself.
Lazy kisses turned more heated and hands wandered, sliding up under shirts and beneath waistbands. James' cock was half-hard where it pressed against Becker, trapped in too many layers of clothing. When James undid Becker's belt, Becker abruptly pulled away and stood up. He looked flushed and rumpled and entirely too tempting for James to not have his hands on him right now.
"I have a proposition for you, sweetheart," Becker said as he walked over to the dresser and opened up the drawer where James kept his ties, pulling two out.
They had played bondage games a few times before, but always with Becker as the one tied up. The gleam in Becker's eyes gave James the impression that his lover had quite another idea in mind at the moment. He didn't say anything and Becker crawled back up the bed, nuzzling James' neck. "I'll make it so good for you, James, I promise. You always love what I do to you, don't you?"
James thought about putting himself completely at Becker's mercy, giving up all sense of control. He knew it was just sex, and it wasn't as though Becker was asking to chain him up or something, but there was still a part of him that balked at the idea, that wanted to say 'hell no' and run. He supposed it was about trust. "Yes, okay," he said.
Becker kissed James' neck. "Clothes off first," he commanded, his voice already going husky like it did when he was aroused.
Immediately James started to undo the buttons of his shirt, but as he got to the last few his fingers fumbled under the weight of Becker's gaze. He shrugged out of the shirt and debated whether it was worth getting up to toss it with the dirty laundry, but the way Becker was looking at him quickly decided him. He dropped it over the side of the bed.
James' hands were shaking minutely and Becker pushed them away. "Let me," he said and unbuckled James' belt, pulled down the zip of James' jeans, deliberately brushing his fingers against the hard line of James' cock. James bit back a gasp and wriggled out of both jeans and underwear, momentarily getting his feet tangled.
Now that James was naked, Becker retrieved the ties and nudged James into the position he wanted, on his back, arms stretched up overhead. He leaned over James' body to tie first one hand and then the other. James gave an experimental tug and found that it was loose enough to not be uncomfortable but not so much that he would ever be able to get free without Becker's help. The material was soft against his wrists- James believed in always having the highest quality, a fact for which he was grateful now.
"All right so far, love?" Becker asked as he knelt back down by Lester's knees.
"The situation would be much improved by the removal of your clothing, dearest."
"Demanding as always," Becker said but he got off the bed and tugged up his shirt slowly, revealing tanned skin inch by inch. After he'd let the shirt slip from his fingers onto the floor, he held James' gaze and started to play with his nipples, teasing them with his fingers. James jerked ineffectually at his bonds, wanting nothing more than to touch, to swipe his tongue over the small, hard nubs.
He must have made some sort of humiliating noise because Becker was grinning like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. "No touching, sweetie, but I'm going to touch every inch of you in a moment, don't worry."
"Fuck," James said.
"Not just yet. Have some patience." Becker shimmied out of his jeans and underwear in one graceful motion that James could never hope to replicate. When he bent over, he displayed his perfect arse at the perfect angle.
"You are such a tart, Hils."
"And that's exactly the way you like me." Instead of returning to the bed as James expected, Becker walked across the room, unashamedly naked, his cock jutting out from dark curls. He took one more tie out of the drawer and then got onto the bed. "There's one other thing I wanted to do," he said and James understood what he meant without needing to be told.
Becker was watching James, silently and maybe even nervously, waiting for James' response. Waiting for permission, James realised. Becker wouldn't make one more move until James said it was okay.
And that made it okay, so James nodded and Becker kissed him on the nose before carefully covering James' eyes with the tie, tying it behind his head. James was plunged into darkness, which was disconcerting at first, but he took a breath and closed his eyes, relaxing. It was only Becker, his lover, his... It was only Hils.
Without his sight, James' other senses gradually started to move to the forefront. The first thing he noticed was Becker's rough hands stroking over his skin, soothing, as though he was reassuring James of his presence. The feel of the sheets beneath his arse, the silk of the ties against his face and his wrists. James could hear the creak of the bed every time someone shifted, and below that the soft, steady sound of Becker's breathing that James knew was probably more in his head than an actual sound. He could smell the faintest hint of Becker's aftershave, clean sweat and the indefinable something that was just Becker.
"Do you want a safeword?" Becker asked softly.
James shook his head. "I don't need one. I trust you."
He was rewarded with a deep kiss, Becker saying, "But the second you feel uncomfortable, you tell me," as he drew back.
And then Becker was moving and James became aware that his lover had been serious about the touching. James gave himself over to the sensations- the slide of Becker's tongue across James' collarbones and down his chest to his nipples, a push of fingers into the skin of his waist, a scrape of nails up his inner thighs, a kiss pressed into his instep and another behind his ankle. Becker had always been a generous, attentive lover but he was really outdoing himself this time. His hands and his mouth seemed to be everywhere, touching James in places he hadn't ever realised he wanted to be touched, his cock achingly hard before Becker even deigned to give it any attention. Becker was being very free with his teeth and his nails- he always did like it rough- and James knew that when next he saw a mirror the evidence of tonight's activities would be all over his body.
As if sensing the direction of James' thoughts, Becker said, "I want you to feel this tomorrow, James. I want you to be sitting at your desk with your bruises aching, feeling them under your clothes, remembering what we did. I want you to take off your shirt and see where I marked you and think of me."
James pulled again at his restraints, desperate to touch and to feel, wanting more contact, but it was no good. "Fuck, Hils, you fucking bastard. I hate you so much right now."
Becker's laughter ghosted warmly across James' belly and his mouth was a wet slide on James' skin. "Liar. You love me. When we- if we do this again, there's so many things I could try. Would you let me?"
"Yes, yes, I'd let you." Bugger. James was pretty sure he would let Becker do anything he wanted and he didn't know what to make of that fact.
When Becker finally moved his focus to James' cock, it was to blow gently on the head while his fingers teased the sensitive skin of James' balls. "You're so hard, James, I want you inside me. Would you like that? Want me to ride you?"
He always had to make James say it. "Please," James was somehow able to grit out while his mind was assaulted with all the images the blindfold prevented him from seeing. He couldn't deny that not being able to watch what Becker was doing had somehow made the foreplay more intense, but fuck, he really wanted to be able to see Becker right now.
He heard the flip of the cap as Becker opened the bottle of lubricant and then hissed as Becker smeared it onto his cock. James bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to stave off his reaction, knowing that if he didn't calm himself he was going to come embarrassingly soon. Becker's breath puffed against the side of James' face and his voice was a low purr. "I'm going to be so tight for you, love. I've only just stretched myself; it seemed a shame to waste the show when you can't even see it."
James whined. Fuck. He could never control himself when he was with Becker.
The mattress dipped on either side as Becker settled himself and even knowing what was about to happen couldn't prepare James for the incredible sensation of Becker sinking down onto him, bit by bit. Shit, Becker hadn't been kidding about how tight he was, his muscles clenching as he adjusted to the intrusion. James was pretty sure that he'd moaned but then, it might have been Becker. After he'd taken James in all the way, Becker stayed still for long moments before he finally started to move, slowly raising and lowering his arse.
The sound of his own breathing was loud in James' ears and the smell of sweat and sex permeated the room. Becker was starting to move more quickly now and James arched his hips, deepening their connection and meeting Becker in time. Although he couldn't actually see, the assault on his other senses combined in a way that made James almost feel like he could. Becker's harsh breathing, the slap of their skin, the rocking of the bed.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Becker asked unevenly, sounding as gone as James felt. "You're so fucking gorgeous, you could make me come just watching you, watching where you're in me. I'm not even touching myself, James, I'm going to come just from you fucking me."
James' knuckles knocked painfully against the headboard and he didn't even care, he couldn't- He was going to-
"Fuck, James, come for me, come now," Becker said and James' orgasm rolled through him, picturing what Becker must look like fucking himself on James' cock. Becker moaned and then James felt Becker's come splattering over his chest and stomach. Becker leaned against him heavy enough to be uncomfortable, but James rather thought he could forgive it.
Becker slid off James' softening cock, leaving him feeling suddenly bereft, and then he could see again as Becker removed the blindfold. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light and flexed his wrists when Becker untied his restraints. Becker kissed the inside of each wrist, which James knew was Becker's way of showing thanks, of acknowledging that James had gone out of his comfort zone because Becker had asked him to.
Becker filled his line of sight, his expression showing how extraordinarily pleased with himself he was. "Good, yeah?" he said and instead of waiting for a response gave James a quick, sloppy kiss.
Still feeling as though he hadn't fully regained the use of his higher brain functions, James was startled when Becker's lips traveled down from his mouth over his jaw and throat to his chest, where he started to lap up the traces of his own come. "Dear God," James said, closing his eyes, a stab of arousal in his gut that he had no right to be feeling. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Can't think of a better way to go," Becker replied, ceasing his ministrations only long enough to speak.
James let his hand fall limply onto the back of Becker's neck. Through half-closed eyes he could see Becker's dark head, his pink tongue darting out. "You're kind of a kinky bastard, Hils, aren't you?"
Grinning up at him, Becker moved in for another kiss, mouth full of the salty tang of his come. "Oh, I'm just getting started."
End