Gregory
Landon textedGregory Saturday morning and asked him to come to Rapture that night. A loud, public space wasn’t what he considered to be the ideal meeting place, but he needed Landon to be comfortable. Landon hadn’t given him specifics about where in the club he’d be, but Gregory made an educated guess and wound his way up the loft stairs after he arrived.
Halfway up, his nerves got the better of him and he stalled, curling his sweaty fingers around the railing. The text message Landon sent this morning had a picture attached to it; the row of negative test results was still emblazoned against the back of his eyelids. Landon had sent him his results, so Gregory snapped a copy of his most recent one and sent it back, then jerked off thinking about what it would feel like to come inside of Landon.
Gregory continued his ascent up the stairs. The loft was dark and empty; the bass of the music from below bounced off the walls with a steady thump. The door in the back of the alcove was cracked and a pale orange light flickered into the hall. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click. He rested his back against the door and closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath.
Landon was in the corner across the room, on his knees, fingers twined together behind his neck. He didn’t look up when Gregory walked in; he didn’t look up when Gregory didn’t approach. He stayed where he was, on his knees, eyes downcast.
“How long have you been waiting here?” Gregory asked.
Landon didn’t answer, and Gregory chuckled. He closed the distance between them and stroked his palm across the top of Landon’s hair.
“You may speak,” Gregory said, tilting Landon’s head back so he was forced to look up, “and you may call me Sir.”
“Not long, Sir.”
The acquiescent tone of Landon’s voice was like an electric charge straight to Gregory’s cock. He released Landon’s hair and stepped away, taking inventory of the room before he planned out what was going to happen next.
The whole thing felt like a surreal dream to him as he noted the low bed tucked in the corner, eyebolts screwed into the wall at even intervals from end to end. There was a small fridge beside the bed. Gregory opened it and found it stocked with water bottles and sports drinks. There was shelving on one wall holding a few restraint options—some rope and small toys like nipple clamps and cock cages. There were two floggers hanging on the wall, a riding crop, and three canes. In the corner opposite the bed there was a spanking bench, a stack of towels and another shelf with a bottle of lube and condoms.
The room had enough to get into trouble without being painfully ostentatious. This room was all Landon. Gregory realized he hadn’t seen toys or tools when he was at Landon’s house, and barring a playroom that he hadn’t seen, that meant Landon didn’t play at home. It must be here. Only here.
The thought of other men striking and fucking Landon in the space he was about to do the same made his skin crawl. He tried to push the feeling down, but it fought him. Gregory wasn’t special. He’d hoped to be, even after all these years, but how could he be? They were near strangers. He had to give it time.
“How many men have…” Gregory bit his tongue and stopped himself from finishing the sentence. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
Gregory sat on the bed and looked up. The lights were recessed into the ceiling and cast a dim amber glow across the room. It made Landon look as if his skin were made of bronze. It made Gregory’s heart and cock ache.
“Come and take off my boots.”
Landon flicked his eyes up, and Gregory pointed at the floor. Landon unwound his fingers and dropped to his hands, choosing to crawl to close the space between them. When he made it to the bed, he rolled back onto his heels and slowly began to pick at the laces of Gregory’s boots. Once he had them undone, he pulled them away from Gregory’s feet, set them together at the foot of the bed, and waited.
“I don’t even know where to start with you,” Gregory admitted, unashamed. He traced a finger down Landon’s cheek. “There’s one part of me that wants to punish you for what you’ve done to us.”
Gregory gripped Landon’s chin in his hand. “But there’s also a part of me that wants to fuck you into the floor so I can make it very clear how things are going to be after tonight.”
Landon swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“Which would you prefer?” Gregory asked, releasing Landon’s chin and reclining back on the bed.
“Whatever pleases you, Sir,” Landon answered, soft and sure.
Gregory growled and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor.
“Red and green?” Gregory asked, sorting safe words before anything happened.
“Red and green, Sir,” Landon repeated.
“Hard limits?”
“No, Sir.”
Gregory raised an eyebrow in doubt.
“Not with you, Sir,” Landon amended.
Gregory's nostrils flared as he ran through a mental slideshow of all the fucked up and depraved things he could do to Landon with a promise like that. He imagined all the taboo games the two of them could play. Would Landon really let him do whatever he wanted? Take a knife to his flesh and bleed him? Choke him until he passed out with Gregory’s cock inside of his ass?
