“So, dancing?”
“Idon’twant to go dancing for my birthday,” Peter says, glaring at him over his shoulder.
Sebastian’s staring at Peter’s ass and he’s hard in his pants. He flicks a gaze up at Peter and winks at him. It’s normally very reassuring. He’s just winding Peter up. He likes Peter flustered and annoyed and maybe even irritated.
This is something they both like. Sebastian will get Peter worked up and then he’ll fuck Peter, demand he present his ass or make Peter blow him when Peter is beyond frustrated with his prickly, contrary young lover.
Peter loves the dismissal of his own feelings, loves that Sebastian’s desire and lust overrides Peter’s annoyance. Peter fucking lives for it. Not only does it mean Peter comes hard but it satisfies the fucked-up, emotionally masochistic part of Peter, too.
And yet, it isn’t quite right today. Maybe it’s because they’re talking about Peter’s birthday and despite his protestations that he doesn’t care and doesn’t want anything, he does. He wants Sebastian to make it special. How special is it going to be if he’s trying to take Peter dancing? What if Sebastian doesn’t know him after all?
“I haveneverwanted to go dancing,” Peter says, a little louder and firmer than he wanted.
“You’ll like it. We’ll have fun.”
“If I’d ever in my life wanted to dance, I assure you, I fucking would have.”
“Really? I can think of a few things I know you must have wanted but didn’t pursue,” Sebastian says dismissively. “And then there’s going to be a dinner. A murder mystery dinner.”
Is this a joke, Peter almost asks. Murder fucking mystery? For hisbirthday?
“We’re going to get dressed up, everybody has a part to play, and I’ve gotten you a suit. You just need to get final measurements for it.”
“Measurements?” Peter asks. “For a… suit? I have a million fucking suits. Did you spend three grand on a suit for me? I don’t ever want to wear a suit again!”
“Baby. Trust me. And it wasn’t three grand forjustyour suit. But think about it from my perspective. How fucking sexy you’ll look. Those broad shoulders, all powerful and put together. Everyone who sees you is going to want to fuck you. Well, they’ll want you to fuck them. But we just talked about how that isn’t ever happening.”
Peter’s heart is pounding unpleasantly. He sort of feels a little sick. None of this sounds like a good birthday. “I’d rather stay home and be put in a cock cage.”
Sebastian comes up behind him, putting his arms around Peter’s waist. “Maybe next year.”
Which lands like a knife in his heart. Sebastian doesn’t want to cage him. A cock cage would be very serious. They’ve talked about it a few times. What a responsibility it is. How serious they’d have to be with each other, how well he’d need to know Peter and trust his ability to speak up for himself for something like that to happen.Maybe next yearmeans he doesn’t love Peter enough to keep him and care for him.
Love. Peter loves Sebastian with his whole fucking heart. He’s desperate to say it but won’t do it if Sebastian won’t say it back. And now he knows Sebastian wouldn’t say it in return.
This is rapidly becoming one of the worst days of his life. Which might be an outsized reaction to the events actually occurring.
I love him too much, Peter thinks.
“Are you listening to me?”
“What? No, I wasn’t.”
Sebastian sighs. He wraps his arms around Peter, holding him tight. “My love,” he starts. Peter flinches. There’s a pause—his reaction has been noticed. Sebastian squeezes him harder. “I swear to you it will be alright. You know how much I love to rile you up. Maybe I’ve gone too far. I don’t want you upset. Please have a little faith that I know what I’m doing.”
“You mean because of all of your experience and wise old age?” Peter snaps.
Firm hands squeeze his shoulders. “I get to give you the birthday I want you to have, and you just say thank you. Trust me. Please?”
Oh god, he said please. That’s Peter’s kryptonite.
Sebastian is very good at picking up on Peter’s reluctance. Peter’s become spoiled, knows Sebastian will draw the truth out and make speaking up easy, but that isn’t what’s happening now.
Instead, Sebastian is already groping him, squeezing his chest (because he’s obsessed with Peter’s nipples), and the other hand is roughly groping Peter’s balls through his clothing.
As if the conversation is over.
Peter grunts in discomfort at a particularly rough squeeze and tries very hard not to get distracted.
