Mario burst through Jim's door as soon as it opened. He ignored Jim's startled questions, quickly slipping off his coat and stepping right up into Gordon's personal space with a sneer, "On your knees." he commanded, and saw the moment Jim tensed, eyes wide and pupils starting to blow wide as he realized what was about to happen, "Now, Jim."

Jim dropped obediently in an instant, and Mario tried to ignore the loud thud of his knees hitting the hard floor, knowing it must've hurt. Jim didn't let on to his pain, didn't make any movement to complain, and instead looked up at Mario expectantly, like a trained dog waiting for his master's next command, able to see the treat in hand.

"Shirt, off."

Jim obeyed.

He'd answered the door barefoot, dressed in one of the T-shirts that formed his figure unfairly well and a pair of comfortable jeans. Mario acknowledged Jim tossing the shirt onto the couch haphazardly as Mario made a beeline for Jim's bedroom, grabbing the discreet duffle they kept near the bed quickly before stomping right back out to the living room. Jim was waiting patiently for him, still on his knees, his back to the bedroom.

Mario unceremoniously dropped the duffle onto the coffee table with a thunk, lapped up the little flinch Jim gave him for it.

"Cuffs." he said, still digging around for the tanned leather set Jim had purchased a few weeks ago.

Jim's hands immediately went to his back, crossed at the wrists in a practiced motion. They hadn't really discussed the few cues that had slowly developed over their time together, they'd formed from habit. At first Mario would have tell him to move his arms back for cuffs, then Jim started to move them back automatically whenever he saw Mario approach with them, now he only had to say the word and Jim reverted to that pose. Every time he saw it, the familiar thrill of power shot up Mario's spine like a volt of electricity.

He crouched down behind Jim to clip them in place, not bothering to mess with the locks and key today, just the standard pinch-clip together at the rings. Mario tugged on them once to make sure they were secure and comfortable, and Jim nodded to affirm that they were.

As soon as it was done Mario was up and moving again. He made his way back to the duffle and pulled out the first thing his hands came in contact with.

Which wasn't exactly lucky for Jim.

The little cane was thin as a pencil, plastic, and delivered a sting like you wouldn't believe. Jim had found it in some store he and Bullock had needed to investigate for a case. When he'd brought it to Mario, he'd thought Jim was putting him on, but apparently there was a wide array of odd toys out there meant for different types of pain. Mario liked using the thin cane for little specks of flavor amongst the usual thuds that Jim often preferred. It was good for teasing, for snapping between Jim's thighs to get him to open wider, but not necessarily meant for wailing like he planned to do tonight. It could hold, certainly, but it would probably be unpleasant.

It nipped at the skin like sharp, tiny, bites, and rose little strips of flesh pink like claw marks.

Mario started with a smack to the upper arm. One nick, two, another smack to the other arm, back and forth until Jim started moving around with it, almost trying to shy away from the sting.

It was good, satisfying some of the desire Mario had welling up inside him. He needed to hurt, and while this gave him some relief, Mario needed more. He wanted to use his hands.

He rounded Jim, crouching down in front of him and holding the thin toy up horizontally near his mouth.

"Open." he said, and Jim did, not caring to question him, with just a small flicker of curiosity in his eyes, "Keep it there, Jim. Hold it for me."

Jim's eyes slowly fell shut, and Mario nodded with contentment.

He returned to the back, balling his hand into a fist as he chose where he wanted to hit. He ran his knuckle roughly down the right side of Jim's spine, almost to the point of digging in. Jim would feel it, but it wouldn't exactly hurt. Not like the punch just below the shoulder blade would.

Jim jerked forward a little with the first hit, and Mario clapped a palm over his shoulder to keep him still. Jim knew to lean into the punches, they'd done this enough times, but Mario didn't feel like reminding him of that common knowledge again tonight. Instead he held him there, punched a few more times, forgetting to be careful of his knuckles with the first two hits before correcting his mistake and offering some reprieve.

When he pulled away, Jim was panting, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clamped tightly around the little cane. He was doing good.

Mario didn't say so.

He knew he should have, Jim got off on the praise, but something wicked and angry jerked in his gut. Mario felt the need to push tonight. He wanted to see Jim fight for it, to work through the parts he wouldn't like so much, to see if he'd take it for Mario.

Truthfully, he already knew he would.

"Thank you." he said instead, as he took the cane back from Jim's mouth.

He could see the crease in Jim's brow, the unmistaken absence of his well-earned praise coming into question, but he kept his head down and said nothing.

Let's see how long he can hold out without it.

Mario wasn't feeling kind tonight. He wanted to see him struggle. Mario wanted to feel completely in control tonight. He needed to be completely in control over everything. Every little detail here. He used a finger from either hand to hook into Jim's jeans before yanking them down to the knee, underwear with them.

Jim made a noise, strangled and a little desperate, but Mario carried on as if he hadn't heard it.

He got the desired reaction. Jim squirmed. His eyebrows lifted in a bout of self pity, fingers clenching into a loose fist behind his back, displeased, but too obedient to say anything. It often surprised Mario how a man so headstrong and take-no-shit during the day could be so submissive and relenting when the lights went down. He loved it, realizing that he was one of the very few (if any) that knew Jim like this; one of the privileged people in Jim's life who knew that he was even capable of it.

Mario touched the cane to Jim's spine, dragging it downward in a soft line until he reached the dip just before his ass, teasing a further trek before whipping it away and smacking a cheek hard.

Jim gasped, wincing as Mario laid into him with hit after hit. Jim's skin was glowing by the time he was done, scarlet red and still singing with the sting of each smack. Jim's thighs were trembling and he'd bent over a little at the waist, head down and panting. He gave him only a moment to recover, then tapped over the same burning spot on his left cheek three more times just to be a sadist.

Jim was groaning like the noises were being wrung out of him, drawn up from his throat until the air left him on the tail end of every moan. He'd gasp for breath, shut his eyes and draw up his brows in a look of pleasant desperation.

"Please..." he begged, eyes just a little wet at the corners.

Mario was almost tempted to see if he could make him cry.

"Please, what?" he said instead, and pressed the cane underneath Jim's jaw to tilt his head up, forcing him to look up and into Mario's heated gaze.

Mario leveled him with the most dominant look he could think to pull, a stoic settlement bordering on ice cold, laced with just a bit of well practiced disdain, and Jim whined, "Please-"

"What do you want, Jim?" Mario replied, shaking his head, "I want you to tell me exactly."

Jim shut his eyes, because asking for praise wasn't how he did it. Jim would work and work for it, even if his hard work went unnoticed in the long run, he would keep at it. Jim never asked for it. Never voiced his need to be told what a good job he'd done, both inside the bedroom and out of it. Mario wanted to make him say it out loud, to be the only one that Jim actually asks for gratification. Some deep seeded root inside of him selfishly wanted to be the only one that Jim could turn to for this. He wants to make Jim need him so badly he'll never want to leave.

Like Lee did.

Like girlfriends and boyfriends before Lee did.

Like he's sure Jim will when he wises up.

"Say it for me, James." he snapped, and smacked the meat of his arm with the cane.

Jim flinched, but breathed through the sting after an initial hiss, "I... I want..."

Mario ducked into a crouch, taking Jim's chin into his hand and pulling him up close, moving his mouth just shy of Jim's ear to whisper, "Tell me how badly you want to hear what a good boy you are."

Jim keened, struggling in his cuffs and shifting forward on his knees, pressing against Mario like he was desperate for the contact. Mario wondered, if his wrists weren't restrained behind his back, if Jim would have wrapped his arms around him.

He licked the skin just below Jim's lobe before he could think better of it, "Tell me, Jim. You want to be praised, don't you?"

Jim nodded, brows furrowed frustratedly, "Yeah..."

"Say it."

He choked, "I want... I want you to tell me I'm doing good." he finally admitted, breath rushing out of him with the words and leaving him looking slightly dazed, almost amazed with himself for being able to actually word his desires.

Mario grinned, "Good, Jim. That was really good."

He slipped his hand from chin to cheek, cradling Jim's face in his palm almost tenderly, and Jim sighed, eyes lidded and heavy with bliss.

The image reminded Mario of the night he'd proposed to Lee, having cradled her face in a similar fashion after she'd said yes. Memories of her promises that she would always be there with Mario sparked a train of others, previous lovers, friends, even his father, who was hardly there when Mario was a boy. Maybe there were some abandonment issues hiding away that Mario had been ignoring, but he didn't want to sit and think about it tonight. He didn't want to become a sobbing mess after being left behind yet again.

He stood from his couch swiftly.

"Tell me you need this." he said, and dropped the cane to the floor in favor of rubbing his hands down Jim's back, the soft run of the pads of his fingers curling into the scratch of his nails halfway down. "Tell me how much, Jim."

The man gasped, squirming forward and bending almost in half, face a few inches off the floor.

Mario followed him down, now on his knees behind him, palms still roaming over his back, "Tell me."

"I need it," he panted out, "I need it so bad, Mario-"

He punched both sides of his upper back, fists curled and brought down like a gorilla's. He listened to the sound of air being forced out of Jim's lungs, the breathy, giggly exhale that followed, and decided he needed more. Mario chased sound after sound like they were drugs and he'd developed a desperate addiction. He needed to hear Jim's pleasure to keep himself sane. He hit again. And again. Until Jim was sinking down to the floor, legs still bent on either side of himself.

Mario hadn't even realized he had a clothed erection pressed up against Jim's ass until Jim started to squirm.

Fuck.

He could do it too, couldn't he?

Mario could fuck Jim right now and he would let him, welcome it even. Mario shifted so that the tent of his pants lined up perfectly with the crack of Jim's ass, grinding forward a few times just to drive the point home to himself. He could do it. Jim whined desperately, pushing back against Mario in such a reckless and uncoordinated motion that Mario wondered if it was even intentional. Maybe he'd just done it subconsciously... maybe he was just that needy for it...

That was a deliciously sinful thought now, wasn't it?

He had his pants unzipped before he could help himself, sighing when he finally wrapped a hand around the erection he hadn't been expecting. Then again, he hadn't expected a lot of developments recently, why should this be any different?

Mario curiously touched the head to the glowing red of Jim's ass cheek, groaning gratefully when Jim made a strangled noise, jerking away for the smallest of moments before coming back to press against him with renewed vigor. It was slightly more hesitant than the last press had been, Jim most likely coming to fully realize what was going down behind him.

"Mario?"

He laid himself out over Jim in a sudden rush of need to feel skin on skin. Mario had never been overtly sexual, or at all as needy as he felt right now, but we welcomed the change by fanning the flame; dropping his mouth to bite rough teeth marks into Jim's shoulders, slip a hand down over his hip and grind forward, a mere inward push away from a warm, welcoming hole.

"Mario, you're-"

"Really fucking hard." he said, breathy and elated, still nipping at Jim's back with the intent to mark every little bit of skin that crossed his path.

He'd make an artwork of it, create a painting of scattered teeth marks, hickeys and the bruises from their scene. Jim, his living canvas, wriggled and squirmed beneath him, sometimes arching up into his mouth and other times shying away with a slightly pained squeak. Mario held him still by the hips, rutting against the cleft of his ass as he worked.

The head of his dick caught just for a second on the rim of Jim's hole and Mario groaned outright, loud and lustful, against Jim's marred back. He could just... just push right in. Mario could take Jim like this, on the floor, writhing underneath him and beautifully marked. He touched the head against that waiting hole just once more, finding it as sweat-slippery as the rest of his skin. Mario felt the temptation, if he only pushed-

"Red!" Jim gasped, and the words came down on Mario like a sudden bucket of ice water, shocking him into awareness.

He froze immediately, forcing himself to stop everything he was doing and assess the situation, to come back to the moment.

Jim had never safeworded before... Mario felt panic envelop him, pulling back and running a hand over Jim's back.

"Jim? Are you alright? Talk to me."

Jim whimpered, "I'm okay, just... uncuff me, please."

Mario set to work immediately, fingers even fumbling with the cinch nervously a few times. God he'd just... he'd just tried to stick his dick in Jim without any sort of discussion, hadn't he? What the hell. He watched Jim sit up from his (extremely uncomfortable looking) position and turn onto his side, legs spread out from their curl with a sigh of relief. Mario hadn't even paid attention to how long he'd been on his knees like that, now thinking about it.

He sunk down to pull Jim up into his arms, saddened and contrite beyond belief.

"Jim..." Mario breathed, burying his face in the sweaty mop of his hair, "I'm sorry. I went too far, I- I'm so, so sorry-"

"No." Jim blurted out, wrapping his arms around Mario carefully, "It's what the red word's for. You're..." he gasped, the stinging pain of his backside stealing his breath before he could finish, "You're fine, Mario."

"I'm not fine Jim." he said, almost outraged on Jim's behalf, "I just... I hurt you and then I... God, Jim... if you never wanted to speak to me again, I'd completely understand."

Jim huffed, "You're making it sound like you tried to rape me."

Mario looked up at him sadly.

"You didn't Mario." he snapped, rough and defensive, "Mario, any other time I would have said yes a hundred times over, you know that. I would love to have sex with you, but it's you that always says no. I could tell you were off from the moment you stepped through my door and I should have said something... but that was what really let me know you weren't in the right mindset for any of that tonight. That's the only reason I safeworded."

Mario felt like breaking down, but settled for burying his face against Jim's neck and blithering out a slew of words, "Lee and I split up. She came by my office and gave me back my ring. All the nurses saw her and then... then I broke things, Jim. I destroyed an office. I was angry and... I came here. I took that out on you. I could have broken you, oh God, I am so sorry."

"So that's what it was." Jim sighed, and brought a hand up to the back of Mario's head, "You wouldn't have ever seriously hurt me, Mario. Do you want to talk about it?"

Mario almost couldn't believe Jim would be so careful of him, cradling him with such tender touches, letting him work through it all... after what he'd just put him through. He almost couldn't believe it. If Mario didn't know Jim like he did, didn't understand that he had always been and always would be a self sacrificing, determined son of a bitch, he might have thought differently. But this was Gotham's finest detective, the one good egg in the nest, and Mario shouldn't have expected anything else.

He pulled back, a determined look on his face, "Only if you let me care for you while I do. I... really am so sorry, Jim."

"I know." he said, a light, understand smile spreading across his flushed features, "We'll work through it. I never really explained what going into this with anger can do..."

"I should have known better."

"But you didn't. That's not your fault."

Mario lifted his fingers to trace a bruise sprouting along Jim's forearm, and Jim sucked in a breath, "These are going to hurt for a while."

"Good." Jim snorted, "That's how I like them."

"Jim..." Mario said, hesitantly and keeping his eyes trained on the bruise, fingers still lightly brushing over it in patterns. He sighed, then tapped his arm, "Come on, lets get you to the couch to lie back."

"I'm okay." Jim insisted, but let Mario drag him up into his arms anyway, the couch a very welcome change from the rough wood floors.

Mario kissed his temple contritely, rubbed along his shoulder, let Jim rest in the crook of his arm. Jim hummed appreciatively before placing a hand carefully on Mario's thigh, "Thank you."

Mario snorted, "You really don't need to be thanking me. I should be thanking you for being so understanding. And forgiving."

"Sometimes feelings take over common sense." Jim said, "It happens. I'm not going to be upset with you about it. It'd be pretty hypocritical of me anyway. I'm very much driven by the things I want." His hand squeezed Mario's thigh.

Mario inhaled sharply, "I... I think I'm only now coming to realize what I want."

Jim hummed, and nuzzled his face into where it rested on Mairo's chest, "What do you want?"

He paused, thoughtful, "I..." Mario started, "I want to kiss you."

Jim grinned, and leaned up to plant a kiss on Mario's mouth. Mario kept him close though, didn't let him flee like he always did when he dropped his little surprise kisses on Mario. This wasn't meant to be a chaste peck, Mario wanted to kiss Jim; kiss him like his life depended on it, like they might die if they didn't. He wanted to kiss Jim in a way that would leave him breathless and panting. He wanted to apologize with his lips, convey all the emotions he was feeling right then in one messy smash of their lips...

So he did.

When he finally let Jim loose enough to wriggle free and take shallow breaths between them, Jim stared at him, eyes a little wide. He clearly hadn't been expecting that kind of a kiss from Mario. He'd always been the one to initiate anything, probably thought Mario only wanted another light peck like he always gave... but after the initial shock faded out, Mario could see the hunger replace it.

"You... uh."

"Yeah." Mario laughed, short and breathy.

Jim nodded once, more to himself really, to confirm that this was really happening, that Mario had kissed him.

"I wouldn't mind doing that again." he said, and Mario grinned.

He leaned forward with his hands cupping Jim's cheeks, "I want... I'd like to fuck you too." he swallowed, "If you'd let me..."

Jim made a desperate sound and pushed Mario back until he was almost sinking into the couch, kicking a leg up and over until he was straddling him. "Yes. Yes, that is more than okay with me."

Mario surged up to connect their mouths again, desperate to know what it was like to kiss Jim with the man sitting astride his lap. He wanted to feel Jim grind against him, wanted to lick into his mouth and taste Jim's moans of pleasure. He broke apart fast, needing to make sure all the air was clear, "I- I wasn't really thinking right now. Are you sure, with- after playing-?"

Jim groaned, rocking his hips down to meet Mario's, "It's gonna feel even better to get fucked like this. I know you wanted to take care of me, but you can do that afterword. You can consider this part of my aftercare if you really want to."

Mario laughed, breathless, and held fast to Jim's still moving waist, "You're such a masochist."

"And you're my sadist." he smiled, letting his arms slip down until they were chest to chest, "It's the perfect match."

"You're also a romantic sap."

"You like it that way."

"God help me, I really, really do." Mario sighed, he let his fingers dig into the warm skin of Jim's ass, reveling in the pained whimper Jim gave him in reply, "I like it all. I like that you let me be a sadist, that you love it."

Jim let his head fall to the side, eyelids fluttering shut as he mirrored Mario's words, "I love it all. Wanna..." he grunted, feeling Mario thrust up against him, "wanna be good. For you."

"Do you want me to fuck you as hard as I hit you?" Mario asked, sure that he already knew the answer, really asking just to watch Jim gasp, eyes widening, hips moving of their own accord.

Jim surprised him though, "No. Tonight I want you to let me do the work for you."

Mario licked his lips, loving that idea, but shook his head, "Jim, I can't let you-"

"We're already past the red word thing. It happens. That's what it's for. I don't care. Let me do this for you, you do so much for me."

Mario sighed and pressed his cheek to Jim's chest, arms sliding up his back to tug him closer, "You do so much for me, Jim, I couldn't even explain it..."

"You don't have to tonight." Jim smiled, and pulled Mario's head away from his chest tenderly.

Jim reached behind his back and sought out Mario's hands, pulling them away and around until they were pressed against the back of the couch, one wrist pinned on either side of his head.

"Let me, please?"

Mario smirked, "You always beg so prettily, you know I can't say no."

Jim beamed, tipping his head to kiss Mario again, softer this time, sweet and unrushed, "I always thought the first time we had sex would be rough and fast. I'd have been seducing you for hours until you finally caved and just shoved me down... but I think I like this better."

"I'll push you down next time. It really wouldn't take hours of seducing though," Mario smiled, letting his hands fall limply at his sides while Jim reached between them to work his belt loose, "I would ask if you fantasized about us having sex often, but I'm sure you do."

Grinning, Jim pulled the belt free and brought one of Mario's hands up to wrap the leather around.

Mario raised an eyebrow, "You're going to tie me up, huh?"

Jim's lips stretched wider, and he pulled the arm behind Mario's back before reaching around to attach the other side. "Yes I am."

"Yuck it up while you can. I won't let you do it often."

Jim turned his face to peck a quick kiss to Mario's cheek before continuing on his mission, fumbling with the buckle to keep the makeshift cuffs in place behind his back. "You indulge me."

"Always."

He kissed Mario's cheek again, "I like that about you."

Mario smiled, tugging a little on the leather to test its strength, "You're still talking, we could be kissing. Or you could be doing other things with that mouth."

Jim smirked down at him, a look mischievous enough to make Mario a little restless in his restraints. Jim trailed a finger down the doctor's chest, starting from just below his jaw and trailing the neckline. Mario closed his eyes, let himself feel each little touch, the drag, listened to Jim's excited intake of breath.

In a flash the touch was gone, as was Jim. He opened his eyes again to see him crouched down in front of the duffel, rummaging around for something and giving Mario a spectacular view of his backside in the meantime. "I could get used to that." he said, cockily.

Jim scoffed, smirking over his shoulder before standing, a bottle of lubricant in hand.

"You've tied my hands. How am I supposed to help you with-"

"You're not." Jim said, grinning, and seated himself on the coffee table just in front of Mario.

Mario's eyes widened as Jim uncapped the lube, squeezing a generous amount into his hand before replacing the lid and setting it aside. He turned then, knees back on the floor and chest over the table. His legs were spread out on either side of Mario's, giving him a tantalizing view as he circled his fingertips around the hole, lube dripping down from his palm and onto his skin as he did.

Mario groaned, finally understanding Jim's restraints.

The first finger was easy, and Jim only spent three thrusts bothering with it before adding a second. The press of that one make him moan, cheek pressed to the flat surface of his table, one hand holding his cheeks open while the other pressed inside. It was a wildly hot sight and Mario was starting to regret having let Jim take control.

"Jesus..."

Jim laughed, soft and breathless, and added a third.

Mario let the register of his voice drop to a low growl as he watched, toes curling in his shoes. He was still mostly clothed, looking down at Jim, completely nude and fingering himself open, and the power implied by that set his skin alight with a fire of desire. "Jim." he said, gravely and a little wrecked, "Either let me out of this or get up here and ride me."

Jim whined, but stayed where he was, even daring to press in a fourth finger, possibly just to watch Mario squirm. The little bastard.

"Jim."

"Be- ah... be patient."

Mario moaned, kicked his feet further apart to try and relieve some of the strain of his erection, trapped between his legs. The movement simultaneously jarred Jim, knocking his thighs further apart and bringing him down unexpectedly onto his fingers, just a little deeper than before. He gasped, let out a long, strained groan, and lifted from the chest to smile over his shoulder at Mario, who was very quickly losing his patience.

"Gordon. Get your ass up here, or so help me God, I will dislocate my thumbs getting out of this and make you."