A/N: Buckle in, people.


Nothing ever prepared him for how cold the bench felt on his chest. His nipples hardened as he lay over it, and Matthew was grateful that his pants were still in tact as the other male strapped him down. Being restrained like this wasn't what frightened him, however.

It was the fear of the unknown.

The blindfold and earplugs kept him from knowing what was happening around him, and while he'd known what he was doing in the kitchen, the change that happened when Gil descended that staircase meant that Matt would be seeing a new side of him— every time— and that made him a little more unsure of himself.

He felt warm, callused fingertips run along his spine, worn from years of his best friend teaching him guitar, and just feeling that on his skin had Matt breaking out into goosebumps.

Then the fingers in his hair, so sweet, so gentle, that the blond knew it could only be a prelude of what was to come. He could faintly hear a low rumble through the plugs, and instinct told him that Gil was speaking, but the words were lost.

"...Never needed to prove myself so badly," Gil murmured, all but worshipping every bit of the Canadian's exposed skin. He slowly nudged his fingers under the waistband of Matt's jeans and relished the gasp he heard. He peeked at Matthew's face, and Gil worried that the other was biting his lip so hard it would bleed. He reached over and caressed his cheek, thumb moving to gently pull on what bit of pink flesh hadn't made it between the blond's teeth.

"Don't do that," Gil said softly, and when the other didn't relent, he pulled again. "Let go."

Matt knew what Gil was getting at, but he needed to do this, to be quiet. He felt pressure suddenly release in his ear, and then warm breath.

"We soundproofed this basement for a reason, Mattie. Let me hear you," he coaxed as his lips brushed over the shell of the other's ear. The plug was quickly replaced, and once Matt had done as told, Gil fused their mouths together, running his tongue over the blond's lower lip where it would soon be raw.

The angle was tough, as Matthew was laying face down with his head turned to the side, but it didn't take away from the intimacy of the kiss.

In this room, kissing was a rare and kind reward, and, on occasion, a bribe.

Gil replaced his hand on Matthew's lower back, again pushing them under the blond's jeans and boxers. He kept an eye fixed on Matt's face, watching as he rubbed over his left ass cheek. Matt's face reddened, and he twitched, as squirming was nigh impossible, tied to the bench as he was.

"Gil..." he breathed, shaking from what bit of contact there was.

The corner of the Prussian's mouth tilted up.

He gave the plump flesh a squeeze and was washed in heat as he heard a thin moan. The knife burned in his back pocket where it strained against his work trousers. "Where to do it..." he mumbled, pulling Matt's pants down lower to expose all of his ass. He kneeled there for a moment, just letting his hands roam.

A bead of sweat slid down the other's temple. His heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know. He didn't know. Had he changed his mind? He knew Gil became easily distracted— maybe the man had become too caught up in the idea of finally doing what he wanted.

"Gil," he urged, "this isn't fair."

Gil threw a glare at him, which he knew Matt would only feel, and withdrew his hands, slowly standing. He crept through the room, over to the wardrobe, and opened it, taking his time looking through the selection of implements they'd accumulated. Minutes passed, and Matt whimpered softly.

"Gil...?" he called out tentatively. Had he left? He shivered slightly from the cold and strained to listen. "Fuck! Gil, don't leave me down here!" Yes, he'd known better than to say what he had, but he'd said it and this was a punishment he couldn't take. A shrill note of panic crept into his voice. He could handle a lot of things...

Being exposed.

Tied town.

Taken without a considerate thought in his direction.

Being burnt.

Doing holds until he just couldn't take it anymore and enduring the embarrassment of an accident in front of the only person who mattered.

But this?

This was too much.

Vulnerable, strapped down as if he were some maniacal lunatic, deaf and blind to the world around him, and alone...

And so he braced himself enough to say, "RED."

Gil's head darted up and he dropped the few things he'd been holding, jogging over to the bench and gently removing the ear plugs, untying the blindfold as quick as he could and kissingkissingkissing him so fervently and deeply he nearly choked him from lack of air and all Matt wanted to do was tell him it was okay because Gil was apologizing in the only way he knew how in this room but he couldn't even move away to do that.

He pushed against Gilbert's forehead with his own, closing his mouth to the other, doing what he could.

Gil pulled back, eyes wild with the fire of guilt and deepest screams of repentance.

"It's okay... I just need to at least hear you, baby, I got so worried that you... you left me like this down here and you weren't answering me."

"I-I..." He cleared his throat. "I got a little excited." He unstrapped Matt's left hand, and immediately it was on his face, caressing, and then sliding into his hair. "But you know I would never—"

"Fear knows no limits. You said that."

Gilbert nodded.

"I'll give you a green if you'll let me be face up, without the earplugs and blindfold. I'll even let you gag me."

His face lit up at that and he set to work unstrapping each of Matt's limbs and helping him to get off the bench. Matt disposed of his pants and boxers, which were now damp from precum. Gil licked his lips, and as the other stood before where he kneeled, the man leaned forward and planted a kiss on his hip, over where the narrow scratches were. Matt petted his hair and lay down again on the bench, relaxing his arms and legs so he could be strapped again.

Gil strapped all but Matt's left leg, stroking it with warm hands.

"A-aah..." All it took was the simplest of touches, and simply knowing that Gil liked being in constant contact with him like this, to make him—

A hand wrapped around the base of his cock, pinching tight. "No," Gil barked.

Matt moaned dejectedly. "You know I could do this all day, Sir, and it would only take me a minute to be ready for you again."

Gil shook his head and stood, walking to the cabinet and pulling out the horse bit gag. He brought it over, twirling it around his fingers and lifting Matt's head, He set it in place, nice and snug, and listened as Matt's teeth clenched around it. Matt looked pointedly at him and rolled his eyes. Gilbert knew him to be persuasive, and Matt knew the only true reason Gil "liked" to gag him was so that he himself wouldn't give in to Matt's oh so simple requests.

The pearl-white haired man looked at him smugly, acting as if he had won something. He pumped his hand up and down over the blond's erection, looking at him as if daring him to cum. "Don't," he said crisply, and Matt knew exactly what he meant.

Again, Gil pulled out the knife, turning it over in his hand. From the corner of his eye, he could see Matt's left leg bouncing up and down rapidly in an effort not to disobey, and it had the Prussian tighter in his pants than he'd ever been.

"Mmmph...!"

He chuckled, finally releasing his hold on the other and setting back to work on deciding what part of this sprawling canvas to cover in paint. He kissed down Matthew's sternum, nose brushing almost lovingly over the area, and dipped his tongue into Matthew's navel.

"Unh!" Matthew brought his foot down hard, making a satisfying thump.

Gil looked at him deviously. "Oh, does that tickle?"

Even with the bit, he knew Matt was smiling. The blond nodded emphatically, and he laughed. "Maybe here, then?" he pondered aloud, tracing his narrow blade around the dip in Matt's skin.

Matt wasn't sure how to take that. Did he actually have an input on where? He tossed the idea around in his head. Gil had always had a fascination with his orifices, and that did not exclude his "beautiful" belly button, where the Prussian always dipped his tongue or finger. He nodded slowly, making an affirmative sound.

He toyed with one of Matt's nipples as he thought, deciding that a simple scrolling around half would suffice.

Matt watched the change in Gil's face, from contemplative lover to an artist with an obvious do-not-disturb sign flashing over his head.

Taking a deep breath, he strapped a restraint over the Canadian's torso, knowing that with the kind of art he enjoyed, it would mean a great dose of discomfort for the other. He turned the knife in his hand, holding it like a pen, and gently set the point into his skin, pushing down with steady pressure and sighing as the first red pearl beaded to the surface. Matt tensed beneath him, letting out a little whine. He stroked the blond's cock a few times to balance the feeling with pleasure, and then continued on, keeping one hand somewhere on the other's body to offer something pleasant as he went about his work, jaw set and brow furrowed.

Matt was nervous under his stare, worried that he might find some imperfection in this body that he loved, and would no longer want to adorn him.

"Relax," Gil said gruffly, caressing his hip. "You're perfect."

And just like that, any ounce of pain he would have felt was replaced with intense pleasure, and every ruby tear he shed, Gil licked away.


A/N: OH MY GOSH I AM SORRY. I said smut next. I don't think this counts. Do you see what happens when I try new things? I get real damn caught up. I've never written anything involving bloodplay/knifeplay. Yikes. I will try to contain myself in the next chapter.

Other than that, any thoughts? Or maybe ideas I can incorporate? I never see recommendations or specific requests as limiting my creativityonly a challenge that I can win!