Peter whimpers as Sebastian’s dirty jeans brush against his cheek. Relief floods through him. The truth is that he’s happiest when he knows Sebastian wants him.
That is uncomplicated joy.
He turns his head, nuzzles into Sebastian’s groin, nose pressed into his jeans, right at the line where his hip meets his thigh. Peter drags in a breath, wishing he could scent more of him.
Sebastian’s fingers slide into his hair, gently touching him. Soft affection because he’s been good. Just that simple touch is enough to almost undo him. What he feels for Sebastian is terrifying in its intensity. It isn’t just love but obsession and devotion.
He wants to prove himself to Sebastian, wants him to know that his love and devotion are more powerful and pure than anyone else’s ever could be. And that realization has had a weird effect on Peter over the last several weeks. It’s made him almost shy.
Hesitant.
The more he wants Sebastian, the less he reaches for him.
“Please,” he forces himself to whisper. He isn’t even sure if Sebastian can hear it. Why is that so difficult to get out?
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Sebastian says fondly. “What are you thinking, sweetheart?”
He presses a kiss to the inside of Sebastian’s thigh and then to his balls and up the line of his hardening shaft. He rolls his eyes up to meet Sebastian’s, invitation plain.
“Maybe that was a ridiculous question. Sometimes I think I always know what you’re thinking. And usually you’re thinking about how good you want to be for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he says and rubs his face against Sebastian’s dirty jeans.
“Thinking about how much you want me to use you and make you come.”
“Yes,” he says, making eye contact because it’s true and important.
Sebastian grins at him. “How long has it been?”
“Since what?” Peter asks. Is it a trick question?
Sebastian’s fingers clench into a fist. Peter tilts his head back, eyes closing against the prickling pain in his scalp.
“You don’t seem like you’re trying to be disobedient.”
He isn’t. And it takes a minute to even figure out why Sebastian would think that. Oh, it was a genuine question. “How long has it been since I blew you, or since you came in me, or since I came? Or… since you touched me?“ Peter adds. The last one is too quiet. Revealing.
Sebastian laughs. “I’m sure you don’t know the answer to all of those.”
Peter presses his face firmly into Sebastian‘s hip, wanting to hide the flush of shame that is no doubt making him blush madly.
Sebastian’s lust has a heavy slant toward exploitation.
And Peter loves to be exploited and taken advantage of. Which means that Sebastian is wrong.
Peter does know the answer to all of those questions. He knows down to the minute how long it’s been since Sebastian has done each of those things to him. It feels like his whole life revolves around the attention he might get from Sebastian. It’s honestly terrifying how obsessed he is with his young Dominant.
“How long has it been since you blew me?” Sebastian asks, testing him.
“Fifteen hours,” Peter says.
“How long has it been since I fucked you?”
“Seven hours.”
Two hands settle on each side of his face, gently tilting him up so they can make eye contact. “Pretty fucking blush. Why are you keeping that from me?” he asks, but it’s gentle.
Peter tries to shrug, not knowing what to say.
