There’s another condom on the counter. Why is it there?
Sebastian dumps two spoonfuls of sugar into the mug, stirs it, and then turns to present the coffee to Peter. With a smile no less. His cheeks are flushed.Those cheeks, satiny and full of youth, and he’s looking at Peter softly… but also like he might suddenly take Peter to the ground and ravage him.
Is Sebastian imagining it, too?
Are you going to have me again?It’s a simple question. He could ask.
Peter is standing there like an idiot, aching and hurting inside, feeling both really good and really vulnerable. If Sebastian did decide to fuck him again, Peter isn’t sure how he’d react to that. He wouldn’t say no. He’s very afraid he’d give in without making a single, token protest.
What exactly would that be like? To be fucked again when he’s sore and emotionally vulnerable. What if he started crying? Had to beg the man to be sweet to him?
“I think I need to go to therapy,” Peter says and takes a sip of coffee. He is definitely having fantasies of terrible things happening to him at this young man’s hand.
One encounter and Peter already feels different. There is a before and an after Sebastian. The world is brighter, and Peter is fragile.
All of the work and political bullshit seem very far away. Sebastian has stripped him to the bone. To his soul. Sebastian has exposed him, broken through the strange exterior that’s covered him his whole adult life, and he feels more at peace than he has in years. Peter hadn't thought he’d ever have that again.
And he has no idea what he’d be, how he’d feel or react if Sebastian wanted him again. Who would he be if Sebastian carried on, revealing another layer of Peter’s soul? Is there anything there? Or is this it?
How much of this is real versus a maladaptive coping mechanism from the fallout of his political career?
“Being a politician was terrible. Except for my assistant—who has already taken another job and for more money—there isn’t a single person I worked with that I ever want to see again.”
And no one has called him. He was a traitor to his party as far as they’re concerned, and this is his punishment. Being left alone.
He laughs.
Sebastian looks at him with a raised brow. “You okay over there?”
“I’m free. It’s very strange.”
What is left inside Peter anyway? Who is he? Does he have to be anything more than a plaything for the sadistic young man in his kitchen? Surely he can be a thing for a weekend. Maybe a week.
Reevaluate afterward. He needs to lie low anyway.
If he could have anything, be anywhere, it’d be for this to continue. To see what this monstrously charming young man would do to him if he had nothing but time and Peter’s willingness.
What if he told Sebastian to do his worst?
Peter wants to know himself. And he could know himself through the sensations he experiences. Sebastian could show that to him. It makes Peter terrified of himself. He looks at Sebastian’s groin, the hair on Peter’s arms rising at the very idea that he might find Sebastian hard. Sebastian has underwear on. Must have gone back upstairs when Peter was in the bathroom, and he didn’t even notice.
Sebastian isn’t hard. Which is… that’s something. He isn’t relieved, and he should be.
“I should put something on,” Peter says.
“No. Naked is good. Come here,” Sebastian orders. The smile is still there, but there’s something about his eyes or his posture or… Peter’s heart beats fast as he gets closer.
“What do you say, baby doll?” Sebastian prompts and kisses his jaw.
“Thank you,” he says as Sebastian kisses his neck.
Sebastian takes a breath in, nose pressed to Peter’s collarbone. Peter tries not to whimper. “You smell like you got fucked six ways to Sunday. What a fucking whore you are. You couldn’t go out on the street smelling like this, you know. Notunless you were looking to get fucked again. My pretty whore,” he says and smacks Peter on the ass. Peter yelps and waits. He eyes Sebastian’s mouth.
“You’re not looking to get fucked again, are you?”
He can’t speak. Can’t say no. What does it mean that he’s willing to try, wants to have this man inside him again?
“Of course not,” Sebastian murmurs, answering for him. “Nice things now. Kiss me. Cuddle into me. I hurt you, but I make it better, don’t I?” Sebastian says, voice rough.
