Mario woke up on a grungy leather couch, remembering that he'd crashed at Jim's the previous night and now hating himself for it. His back ached in all the worst places. At least it was the weekend now, no need to worry about going into work bone sore for the third time this week.

"Morning," Jim called from the stove, something sizzling in the pan in front of him, "eggs and bacon okay?"

"Oh, you don't... uhm... you don't need to make me breakfast, Jim."

He waved his hand carelessly, "Gah, come on. I don't mind."

Mario huffed and dragged himself up from the couch, "Why does this feel like a morning after situation?"

Jim grinned, shot Mario a wink over his shoulder, "If only."

"Hah." he sniffed, "Smells good."

"The one thing a single man like myself can make, good ol' eggs and bacon."

Mario nodded, "The bachelor's go-to."

"Of course." Jim smiled, and leaned over to drop a little kiss on a startled Mario.

"Jim!"

He shrugged with a grin, "Just felt like it."

"Well stop that. It's weird and I'm still engaged."

Jim stiffened just a little beside him as Mario decided to raid his fridge for a drink, certainly not trying to ignore how he felt about it, "I thought that you staying in a hotel and coming here meant you two were..."

"No."

"Oh." Jim said.

Mario sighed, "Look, Jim..."

"Nah, I got it. Just a pit stop before you go running back to her, right?"

"Hey," Mario frowned, turning around to say something else but was interrupted by Jim's sullen huff.

"Shut up. I understand and I wasn't expecting anything else."

Mario wanted to say something about how self deprecating that sounded, about how defeated Jim looked in spite of his words, but kept his lips sealed. This was a delicate situation, and if he wasn't careful he could easily end up hurting Jim, maybe even breaking his heart.

Instead he decided orange juice looked good, and tugged the carton from the door roughly before poking around for a glass.

Jim plated the food quietly before handing Mario his share, and they sat to eat on the couches with the same disheartening silence hanging between them. Mario decided it was wiser to just quietly go about eating his food instead of bringing it up.

"I still want you to do it for me, by the way." Jim said out of nowhere, their plates half empty and Jim just casually chewing on his bacon, "Just in case you were wondering. That hasn't changed."

"Do-?" Mario choked a little on his orange juice, "Oh! Uhm... really?"

"Yep."

He frowned, "...Why?"

Jim simply smiled, "You said it yourself, you don't lie. I think.. I just trust that you'll go about it right."

"And if I don't?" Mario asked, a little brazen, "Or if I don't like it or you're not getting what you need after all?"

"Then we stop. This isn't binding, Mario. I'm not trapping you."

He scoffed, "I feel pretty trapped, Jim."

"Then help me fix that. How can I fix that?"

Mario shrugged and scooped a final bite of eggs onto his fork, "Just don't ask me to do it?"

"Then we're back at square one and I'll probably see you at work on Monday." Jim retorted with an amused chuckle.

Mario glared at him, "That's not funny."

"I wasn't really kidding." he admitted, "I need something, Mario. That's the only other way I know how to get it."

"Well that's not happening."

"So this is plan B. It's just to try it out, Mario, not binding. You suggested it. If it doesn't work or if you're too uncomfortable then we stop and I'll look for something else."

Mario eyed him warily, "Would you really?" he balked, "Look for something better?"

Jim sighed, "I promise that if you're willing to really try and it doesn't work out, I'll find something healthier."

Mario hesitantly gulped down the last of his juice, deciding to (at the very least) draw out the moments before he inevitably gave in. He sighed, set his glass down and conceded, "Alright." he said, and lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes, "But I have no idea what I'm doing, Jim. You're really going to have to instruct me. I don't really understand what you're looking for exactly... Do I just... punch you or something?"

Jim snorted, and stood to clear away the plates, grabbing Mario's empty glass as well, "No. Do you want to try something out now to kind of get the hang of it?"

Mario frowned, "Aren't we supposed to... negotiate stuff first?"

"And you said you had no idea what you were doing." Jim grinned, looking over his shoulder with some measure of glee as he dumped the dishes into the sink.

"Browsing the internet for a few hours hardly makes me an expert." Mario huffed.

Jim blinked, a bewildered look on his face, "You actually spent a couple hours looking stuff up? For me?"

Mario grumped, "Don't say it like that. I just didn't want to go into anything completely ignorant."

Jim wandered back and took a seat beside Mario, a leg bent up between them and an arm over the back of the sofa, "So what did you learn?"

Mario let himself relax against the cushions with a sigh, "We're supposed to negotiate things... or something. Stuff you like, stuff you dislike, things that are definitely off the table."

"For you too." Jim said determinedly, "What else?"

Mario licked his lips, "I shouldn't use my fingertips when hitting you, you use the palm... and I'm supposed to... take care of you afterword."

Jim smiled, "No fingertips, good, but as far as aftercare, I don't really need it."

Mario frowned and turned his head to finally face Jim, "If we're doing this, that will be one of my ground rules. You have to let me take care of you afterword."

Jim snorted, "Won't that be a little too romantic for you?"

"What about it would be romantic?"

"...The cuddling? Usually aftercare involves some heavy petting and pretty words of encouragement."

Mario frowned again, "I didn't know that. I thought it just meant like... treating any wounds and making sure you're hydrated."

"That too." Jim chuckled, "But that's just part of it." he made a gesture with his hands, "Aftercare is usually a little more of an emotional experience. You're checking in on your partner, and not just with the physical pains. You have to check up on their mental state too."

Mario blinked up at Jim curiously, "Have you done this before?"

"No." he admitted, "Not exactly."

Eyes trained with years of doctoral precision narrowed, "Explain."

Jim sighed, slumping down and letting his leg fall in front of him, both of them now spread wide and relaxed, "Barbara liked to get kinda rough in bed. She introduced the idea once, but after she told me a little more about it... and we tried it once," he quickly forced out, "I wasn't really interested in doing that with her."

"You didn't trust her."

"I didn't. I shouldn't have even trusted her to let her do the little that she actually did do."

Mario was going to develop a permanently downturned brow if he kept frowning like this, "Did she hurt you?"

"Well that's kind of the point."

"Jim."

"A few slaps, some claws-girl really likes keeping her nails sharp."

"But nothing like what we're talking about."

"No, nothing like that."

Mario nodded, "So. Aftercare will happen. I'll definitely do it, but I don't think it will be very cuddly."

"I would still like the pretty words if you're up for that." Jim said, an the corner of Mario's lips upturned in reply, "I don't want to do anything that would hinder my work. I need to be able to go into the station and appear normal. Harvey will ask if he sees any marks that he didn't watch me catch in a scuffle."

Mario nodded.

"With that, I think maybe nothing too visible. At least, nothing that I can't hide under my clothes."

Mario listened closely, trying to mentally write everything down to make sure he wouldn't forget, "I'd like to add that we do nothing to your face, or anything that would permanently scar." he raised a pointed finger, "Oh, and no internal damage, obviously. Just- nothing that will bring you back to my emergency room. We're not breaking anything."

Jim chortled, "Got it."

"And no sex, obviously."

The detective smiled slyly, "Who suggested sex?"

"It's a common thing with this, isn't it?" Mario asked, cheeks going a little pink to think he'd implied Jim wanted to have sex with him.

"Not necessarily."

"Well... I'm still engaged, so no sex."

Jim raised his hands in surrender, "I got it. Though you might find yourself carried away by the mood sometimes~"

"Fat chance."

"Ah." Jim sighed, "I think I'd like to say no humiliation too. I'm all for praise, in fact, yes please, lots of praise, but none of... that."

Mario pressed his lips together, "Does my vocal disinterest bug you?"

He shrugged, "Not really, but I'm supposed to go into a different headspace when we do this. I don't want the reminder that you don't find me at all attractive to ruin it for me halfway in."

"I never said I don't-" he coughed, "Whether or not you're attractive doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I have a fiance, Jim."

Jim's eyes perked up and he sat a little straighter as he smiled at Mario. Damn it, it might have been cute if Mario wasn't trying very hard not to think that way, "Are you saying if you didn't have a fiance you might actually admit you like me?"

"I never said anything even close to that." Mario huffed, "Stop that."

"I'm not doing anything." he preened.

"You're smiling like a kid with a candybar. I didn't say that I liked you."

Jim grinned, "No, you're right, you said I was attractive."

"I didn't- For God's sake can we get back to the real issue here?"

"How you're going to tell Lee that you find me irresistable?"

"Gordon, I will hurt you."

"Pretty please?" He asked, and Mario gulped.

Idle, bantering threats like that weren't going to be a thing he could say to Jim anymore... were they?

Jim licked his lips once, tongue gliding across the bottom in a quick motion as he stared at Mario. Mario was curious, to say the least, about where this would head. He had never been anything remotely resembling a sadist, so he doubted it would really hold any pleasure for him. Jim though, he might enjoy watching Jim get what he needed, and being able to be the one to give it to him. Mario shifted in his seat a little, trying to ignore how Jim watched him like a hawk, "When you asked if I wanted to try anything today, what did you have in mind?"

Jim's eyes glazed over a little, and Mario watched him trail off into thought before snapping back suddenly and excitedly exclaiming, "Oh, yeah! Choking is on my want list."

Mario blinked, "W- what the hell, Jim?"

"You just reminded me. I was thinking maybe we could do a choke hold. I know one that will put me out for a few seconds but not do damage to my windpipe. You do it from behind too, so I won't fall, and if we kneel on my bed it would be even better. I could-"

"Slow down..." Mario said, lifting a hand to shush him, "I didn't agree to anything yet. I was only asking."

"I'd like to do that. Or have you hit on my torso or something."

"Believe it or not," Mario huffed, shaking his head with disbelief, "I think I'm more comfortable with hitting you than I am rendering you unconscious the first time we try anything."

Jim grinned, "Works for me." and stood, whipping his shirt off with a flourish.

"Whoa- wait-"

"If I keep waiting then you're going to lose your nerve and we'll never get anywhere." He replied, pulling Mario up from the couch by the hand in spite of his protests.

"Wait-"

Jim ignored him, pushing his coffee table to one side of the room while Mario gaped at him, lips floundering open and closed like a startled fish.

"Now ? Right here?"

"Well the bedroom is a lot smaller, and it's really just a bed in there." Jim offered, and smiled at Mario with enough charm to dazzle Gotham's most brutal mobsters as he let his feet drift apart a little, almost in a stance to fight him.

Oh.

"...Are you going to hit me back?"

"No." Jim said, "...Unless that's what you want?"

"No. I'm not a masochist. You just look ready for a fight."

Jim glanced down at his feet and his cheeks turned a little pink before he shifted into a more lax position, "Sorry, I guess that's a work habit. I'm expecting a punch."

Mario hummed, and took a step forward, lifting a hand carefully to Jim's torso but stopping just out of reach, "Is it okay if I show you where I'm going to hit first?"

Jim nodded, breath coming out faster than it had a moment ago, but Mario decided to write it off as exertion from moving the furniture around.

He let his fingers drift up to Jim's side cautiously, touching just below his ribs, the fleshy bit of the torso where muscle and fat were collected. He traced the area slowly, mapping out where he would have to cut himself off to make sure nothing vital got hurt. This was still a dangerous place to hit if he was too hard, "Here will be moderate. If I miss a swing I could hit something vital and hurt you. So I won't hit you too hard here, just in case."

Jim nodded again, and his tongue once more darted out to lick at the corners of his mouth. Mario realized Jim did that whenever he was excited.

Something to note for later.

Mario tried not to get too distracted as he continued on, hand sliding up to Jim's pectorals, "I can hit harder here and up to your shoulder." he said, "You only said torso, should I stick to that area for today, or are your arms alright too?"

"Arms are fine."

"Then here as well." he continued, slipping his fingers along Jim's shoulders down his upper arms and stopping well before the elbow, "This part will probably make your arms ache." he said, and pressed firmly on the meatier part of his forearm.

A small sound escaped Jim's parted lips, but Mario ignored it.

"Turn around."

Mario tried his damndest not to feel too pleased when Jim complied, obediently turning so that his back was now exposed, but there was something thrilling about being the man to finally tame James Gordon. He felt a little surge of power flow through him, and his movements became more confident. Mario hummed appreciatively, and lifted his hand to Jim's shoulder blades, "I can hit here, but you are going to have to tell me if it feels even slightly sharp. I don't want to risk hurting your shoulder blades."

"Okay."

Mario experimentally formed a fist against his back and dragged it downward, starting from near his shoulders. When he gave the area a light, quick punch Jim gasped. "That alright?"

"Yes."

And off to the races they went.

He hit again, mindful of his aim and staying as far away from Jim's spine as he could, ever cautious of safety. Jim shuddered and jolted forward a little with the third blow.

"Still alright?" Mario asked again.

"That's perfect..." Jim groaned, and rolled his shoulders once.

"If it feels at all sharp-"

"I'll say red."

Mario paused, "Oh. I'm sorry I forgot about that part. There's supposed to be a signal to stop, isn't there? Red is good."

"It means you don't stop if I say anything but that."

"I'll stop if I think you're really injured." he retorted with a hard slap to Jim's side.

Jim jumped, wincing for a moment before letting his head fall back. "But I'm telling you not to."

"You're not in charge here." Mario reminded, and slapped him once more in the same spot. If Jim asked, he would make an excuse about wanting to see his pain threshold, but while that was true, he'd really done it to watch him squirm. "You're trusting me to do this for you," you've given me that control over you, "so if I say we need to stop then we stop, understood?"

"Yes." Jim answered, taking Mario's next hit with an elated grunt.

Mario tested the waters, slapping some places and punching others, only delivering the really hard ones where he knew Jim had already been warmed up and it would sting less than it would hurt deep in his bones. He dug his knuckles in with the punch to Jim's forearm, because he could, and because Jim howled so prettily. Mario had almost thought he'd been a little too rough, but Jim offered him an appreciative groan afterword so he felt pretty certain he hadn't. "Still alright?"

"Perfect... it's perfect..."

Mario brought a couple fingers up to where he'd hit his arm and pushed them roughly against the reddening spot there, enjoying the way Jim moaned and flinched away before leaning into it a little to encourage more. "You're doing good." Mario said, remembering that part of this was supposed to be to support Jim. He'd asked outright for praise.

He hadn't expected Jim to whimper like that in response to it though... He found himself sucking down a breath, trying not to focus on how lovely it had sounded, falling from Jim's lips. "Really good, Jim." he repeated before he could stop himself.

Jim leaned back against Mario's chest as he reached around to pound a fist over his peck, almost feeling the wind knock out from his chest with the impact.

He watched carefully as they continued, noticing when Jim's knees began to quiver and his legs seemed to slump with the effort to stand up. He was panting, groaning every few minutes like he just couldn't help it, like moaning was the only way he could breathe, "I think we're almost done." Mario said, and pressed into the bruise forming on Jim's arm as he punched the other.

"No..." Jim groaned, low and in the back of his throat, clearly lost in his own pleasure as Mario took him apart. "I want more..."

"Your legs are about to give out."

"Don't care." Jim grunted, "Y'll catch me."

"Will you at least agree to sit down for me? I'll give you a little more if you'll sit down."

Jim whined but nodded, allowing Mario to lead him over to the sofa and push him down. He did so with his hands clasped over his collar bone, thumbs digging into the pressure points there and watching with excitement when Jim keened, almost collapsing onto the couch and reaching up to grab Mario's wrists with a wince, "Still alright?" Mario confirmed when Jim cried out.

"Yeah."

"Arms down." Mario instructed, and once again felt overwhelmed with a sudden sense of power-of deep rooted control-when Jim obediently did as he was told.

He hit him two more times in the chest before Jim let out a broken cry, high pitched and desperate, and only when he bucked his hips upward did Mario finally notice the tent in the front of his pants.

He refused to call attention to it, thinking it may embarrass Jim. They talked a little about his headspace, no humiliating him, and Mario didn't want to. Jim was doing good, he didn't deserve to be humiliated. Mario knew well enough that it was likely to happen; he was attracted to Mario after all, and getting hurt seemed to bring him some kind of pleasure. It really wasn't that surprising of a reaction.

What was surprising was Mario's sudden desperate need to see him completely satisfied. "What about biting?" he breathed out, staring at the strain Jim's erection was putting on his jeans.

"Yes!" Jim exclaimed, letting his head fall back against the sofa to voluntarily expose his neck. "Yes, please!"

Mario groaned before he could think better of it, never having been offered such a display before in his life. He'd had plenty of bed partners, male and female, but never had someone just give him their control as enthusiastically as Jim was. He shook his head with a chuckle, "I'm not going to bite you there. Your co workers would see it."

Jim whined but Mario stayed strong, ducking down to a knee instead and bringing his mouth down on the corner of Jim's pectoral, near the bellybutton where he knew a sensitive point was. In order to get at it properly he'd had to slip himself between Jim's legs, chest pressed against Jim's hard on unashamedly.

But again, Mario tried not to think about it.

He didn't chide Jim away when he grinded upward, even though he really should have. He had just convinced himself to man up and tell Jim to knock it off when the detective let out an unearthly and frustratingly sexy groan, fingers clutching onto Mario's shoulders as he came in his pants.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, I'm so sorry." Jim balked, wiggling backward and up the couch, "I didn't mean to do that."

"Jim, it's fine." Mario reassured him, actually grinning a little, and stood to head to the kitchen for water, "I figured that would happen."

"You bit me." Jim grinned lazily, "It felt good. I didn't know it could feel good to be bit on the stomach."

"It's a sensitive point, but orgasming in your pants from that definitely makes you a kinky guy, Jim. If anyone had tried to tell me a few weeks ago that you were this freaky I never would have believed them."

"I don't make a habit of shouting it from the rooftops." he huffed.

"Not an exhibitionalist then?" Mario grinned, wandering back over with two glasses filled from the tap.

Jim accepted his tiredly, but it fell to his lap instead of rising to his lips, "Are you offering? Because I might make an exception just for you."

"No. Now drink that, you need it." He ordered, nodding towards the glass.

Jim groaned, head rolling back against the couch head, "Too tired."

"I'd threaten to hit you again, but you'd like that." Mario smirked, "What if I threatened not to hit you again?"

Jim hastily drank two sips from the glass before Mario was completely finished talking.

"You're something else." he said fondly before taking a drink from his own.

"You like it." Jim smiled, and Mario couldn't deny it.

He did like Jim. He pulled the glass away from his fingers diligently and set it aside. Jim was extremely pliant as Mario maneuvered him around, finally settling them in a position where Jim had his head rested on Mario's thigh, Mario's hand in his hair to commence with the 'heavy petting' as he combed over Jim's body to check him out and make sure everything was still okay. He told Jim what a good job he had done, and Jim smiled lazily up at him.

"You too." Jim murmured, "You were great."

Mario smiled, "Good. I'm glad. Do you think you got what you needed?"

"Ask me after I nap." Jim grinned, and rubbed his face against Mario's leg.

Mario let him, and continued to run his hand through Jim's hair even after he drifted off.