The light of morning and the smell of coffee gradually permeated through sleep, and Nate opened his eyes to look at the Japanese screen with its royal colors of purples, blues, and reds sprawled across a deep black background.
He rolled over onto his back and immediately registered pain: a sore rear and hurting abdomen muscles. He tossed off the covers to see himself in one of Sully's longer tee shirts and black shorts underneath.
The events of the previous night came back, rolling into his mind with their intense poignancy, and his cheeks heated up as he remembered.
Someone was in the kitchen area, making soft noises of clinking cups and spoons.
The tee shirt was long enough to cover the shorts, and Nate came out of his bed area (yes, it really was too small) to see Chloe stirring a cup of coffee before taking a small sip.
Seeing him, she put a finger to her lips. "Sully's still asleep," she said in a low voice. She wore a hoodie and long yoga pants, but her bare feet padded on the floor as she moved closer.
Nate glanced at the clock over the stove. "It's almost ten."
"We wore him out," a quick grin before another sip of coffee. "He was moaning and groaning after you went to sleep so I got him a muscle relaxer and a pain killer. If you use the bathroom, be quiet, but he didn't move when I tiptoed past."
Nate took her advice and went to Sully's room which led to the only bathroom (okay, this loft needed serious remodeling). Sully lay in the bed, snoring, with one arm thrown out and didn't even shift when Nate crept by.
In the bathroom, Nate used the long mirror to pull up the shirt and gingerly pull down his shorts to examine the damage. His bottom was still red and a few circles stood out with dark crimson edges where the hairbrush had landed. Across the back of his legs, several stripes ran horizontally to mark where the belt had struck.
Sitting would be uncomfortable and he might bruise a little, but honestly, he had been more beat up after their adventures with the ships.
He took a deep breath to explore how much his stomach muscles hurt. Really, it was more his upper torso, probably from pulling on the ropes, but also from laughing so hard.
Something else was hard, too, but Nate resolutely pulled up his shorts and tucked the shirt back down. Jerking off could always come later; he didn't want Chloe to slip out while he was … engaged.
Sully still didn't move, and Nate closed the door as silently as he could.
Chloe had poured a cup of coffee for him and offered it to him. "Most of the time, I would give better aftercare than you got, but you passed out almost immediately after calling red. I made Sully get a shirt for you, and we got it on you before covering you up, but you didn't respond."
"I don't remember any of that," Nate took a sip of coffee. It burned, and he set it down to put in creamer and sweetener.
"You have to worry about sub-drop," Chloe went on. "The endorphins that hit you in play wear off, and subs can feel lost or depressed. They start searching for a dopamine hit."
"I don't need a dopamine hit," Nate answered. "You're still here."
"Oh, damn, Sully was right," Chloe groaned. "You are too much of a cute puppy. That face, and those eyes -! You look at me and I have to fight off every instinct to cuddle you, to wrap you in a blanket and feed you, to kiss that adorable nose and pet your hair until you smile."
"I'm twenty-five," it seemed the only logical thing to say.
"And I'm a few years older, and Sully's much older than he will admit."
"I can't help how I look. That's all DNA and other stuff."
"Ah, the American education system at its finest and most scientific," her accent was stronger than Nate had ever heard it. "And it might be genes to give you your features, but how you use them – that's all up to you."
Nate pretended to scowl as he gulped down coffee.
"We didn't have time for aftercare so I want to make sure you're okay."
"A little sore," he shrugged.
She waited until he was drinking coffee again before asking, "Can I feel it?"
He choked on the coffee and coughed hard to retain his breath. "Wh-what?"
"Your ass. Can I feel the heat?"
Nate almost sloshed the coffee on the floor in his eagerness to turn around and close still. When he felt her hands press against his rear, awakening the soreness, the tingle of anticipation started lighting up his nerves again.
"Mmm," she made the noise deep in her throat. "Still warm. I only wish I could have watched the skin turn red. But I couldn't talk Sully into stripping you naked."
"I can't believe you got him to agree in the first place," Nate managed to calm his breathing enough to speak coherently. He didn't dare turn around and let her see his front.
"Ah, Sully," Chloe laughed, moving her hands down to feel the back of his thighs and pressing just hard enough to make Nate wince. "Sometimes, I don't know what to do with him. All macho nonsense and fragile masculinity. I had to keep biting my lip when he was blathering on and on about men and women and their needs and how they were so very different. You want to hear the whole story?"
"Yes," the answer came breathier than Nate wanted, but she was searching for the end of his punished thighs and her hands had gone too far, too close to the ticklish backs of his knees.
"I've wanted to top you forever, and I could see Sully wanted to, but each time I brought the conversation towards that subject, he was all contradictions. He would say, 'Oh, if Nate were a girl, I would' and then he would go on to describe in vivid detail how he would punish you, dominate you, pile sensations on you. And then he would end with 'But he's a guy, so you know.'"
Nate didn't respond as her hands moved back up, kneading his sore skin.
"I wanted to call him out on it, but you know guys his age. Can't ever admit what they want. I felt sad – how many guys in the last hundred years have wanted to do something but couldn't because they thought other men would judge them? Our generation doesn't care about any of that gendered nonsense as much, but I couldn't say that. Yet, every time we got a drink without you there, he would talk to me about topping you and getting to explore his dom side. Finally, after I got two beers into him and let him tell how he fantasized about holding you immobile while I tortured your feet, I said the only thing I could think of to move us along."
She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. With her front pressed to his back, Nate held still while she cuddled him before continuing,
"I said, all casually, 'The image is breathtaking. We should do that. It would be weird if he were naked, but he could keep his shorts on, and if there's no actual penetration, it's not gay. I mean, everyone knows that.'"
"What?" Nate looked over his shoulder at her.
"I know. So dumb, but he bought it because in Sully's head if you don't stick your dick in then it's not sexual and can't be gay. The guy has seen lesbian porn, right?"
"I don't know – ah!" Nate gave a start when her hands, tucked at his side as she held him, rippled over his sides.
"Shh, don't wake him," she leaned forward and ground her chin into his left shoulder blade for a moment before saying, "I kept slipping in how normal it is for guys to touch each out and hurt each other. All that ass slapping in sports and flicking towels at each other in gym showers and jumping on each other's backs and play-hitting each other. Sully comes from a time when being called gay was an insult. Poor guy – it must be terrible to always feel hemmed in by silly ideas about what you can or can't do."
"Yeah," Nate felt like the air was too thin to get a full breath, "just – ah! – terrible."
"I can feel the heat through your clothes," Chloe pressed her full body against his, reaching her crossed arms over his torso and pressing her fingers into the muscles just under his armpits. "I can't tell you how beautiful you looked last night, ruined by our intentions. So much willing suffering and desperate noises. I couldn't tell which was pain or pleasure, but I wanted to watch you writhe -"
"I love you!" Nate blurted out.
Her laugh rumbled against his back. "No, you can't say you love someone in the high of subspace."
"I thought I was dropping. And I do love you."
"It's sub-frenzy. You're high off your own endorphins."
"You can't tell me how I feel!"
Another laugh. "Can I do one more thing for you?"
"Yes," without even thinking about it.
A pause, and then in a low murmur, "Can I jerk you off?"
Nate swallowed as every nerve in his body lit up.
"We can respect Sully's silly wish about no penetration, and I want to watch you while I edge you closer and closer -"
"God, yes! I'm about to lose it."
She grabbed a box of tissues and grabbed his hand to lead him toward the sofa.
"We have to be quiet," her dark eyes sparked with mischief. "If Sully wakes up to find us, he might spank us both. Sit on the sofa and try not to move."
Nate dropped down, a slight wince and ginger shift as the only indications of any lingering pain.
Chloe surveyed him. Most guys expecting a hand job sat with that arrogant smirk on their face, knees man-spread wide, all self-satisfied in the way that irked her and made her want to slap them. Nate was different.
He had his knees about a foot apart, and though he was tenting hard through Sully's big shirt that hung around his hips, he didn't look cocky. He raised both hands and clasped the back of his neck and leaned against the sofa like a man bracing himself against something intense. The anticipation hung between them, hot and heavy, but she could sense his worry and excitement that whatever she did to him would challenge his ability to stand still.
"One rule," she started pulling his shirt. "You keep your eyes on me the whole time. I want to watch you."
He nodded, fixing wide eyes on her. So beautiful with her dark hair against her face, that knowing smile that quirked one smile of her lips, her eyes that drew him into the abyss of her soul and wrapped him into her smoldering passion.
Then he forgot to breathe when she reached for the hem of his shorts.
The End