21 Days of Disney!

[....Sorry. I found a nice break point that was apparently just too early. Welp.]



Stefen turned to him slowly, and there seemed to be nothing in the world beyond his bright eyes and the warmth of their fingers wrapped together. Stef leaned close, searching Vanyel's eyes, seeing hope and longing and a dark thread of fear - oh, my gods. I can't deny him anything - and then their lips closed together and nothing else mattered any more.

If only it were in my nature to be gentle.

It wasn't gentle. Vanyel's touches were frantic and shaking, tugging Stef's hair as he carded at it with those long, beautiful fingers that Stef had longed to have touch him. Stef was kissing a man drowning - how many years since you were last touched without malice? He could never, ever make up for that, but he was damned if he wouldn't try.

When he next paused to breathe, he found his shirt was slipping off his shoulder, and he had less than no idea where his belt had gone. At least he'd kept his touches above clothing. Mostly. He was sat straddling Vanyel, which was a wonderful way to keep their eyes and their lips level, and he almost lost his mind when Vanyel shifted under his hips. "Van," he said, before his lips could be seized again. "Let's - please tell me what you need. I'd do anything for you."

"Please," and Vanyel breathed like he truly had been drowning. Stefen stared at him in longing, hoping that Vanyel could tell that he'd deny him nothing. "Please hurt me."

...Well.

I'm not saying I'd be averse to that, but I don't normally do it on a first date. Stef shifted, wishing he could hide exactly how appealling the thought of having that kind of relationship with Vanyel was to him. I've been fool enough to imagine it, but I'm not fool enough to take that proposition on faith. "Why," he said gently, praying that Vanyel could sense his lack of judgement, "should I hurt you, after all I've done to ease your pain?"

Van stilled, wide-eyed and blinking like he'd never thought to ask himself that, and Stef felt him shiver with frustration. "I don't know. I - I want to, to feel it. I want to please you," and Stefen could feel Vanyel's frustration with his instincts as distinctly as he could feel the cock pressed tight against his balls. "I want you to - do what you will with me," and his face flushed warm as Stef cupped it in his hands. Oh great gods. There was no confusion, no doubt there - Vanyel knew what he wanted. I can't deny you. And the last thing I want is to deny you. But after all you've been through, how do I make this right? I don't want to act out the role of a monster who moulded you to his twisted desires.

"Listen," Stef said, thinking fast. "I want to please you too. I - I need to see you happy. If I'm to hurt you - there's a way to do that that's not in malice. If you trust me. It's - like theatre. We'll act like I have the right to hurt you, and I'll tell you how to please me - but it stops any time you want it to. And I swear I'll take care of you."

He was talking too fast, he knew. It was a lot to ask of someone all at once, and Vanyel's face was creased with confusion. And he had never second-guessed himself so hard in his life. I know I'm not a monster. Damned, assuredly, and definitely disreputable, but twisted though my desires are, I've only ever left a man happy. So maybe I don't have to fight the way you've been moulded. Maybe I can work with it. I can use it to bring you pleasure, real joyful pleasure that comes from respect and affection. There's nothing wrong with wanting someone to dominate you - what's wrong is that he used that to abuse you.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, and held up a hand between them before Vanyel could reply. "Really, truly? I need you to trust me enough to tell me if you don't feel right about anything. You have to promise me you'll do that."

Vanyel nodded slowly - it is a lot to ask. Of both of us. "I promise you."

"Good - I'd hate for you to stop feeling comfortable with me," and Vanyel smiled fleetingly before they kissed again. Stef rolled off his lap, struggling to contain his own giddiness. He'd never wanted anything so much in his life. It felt so dangerous, so easy. He slipped off his clothes and turned to look at Vanyel, disarrayed and smouldering in the corner of the seat. "You belong to me tonight," he said. All performance now, his voice a low snarl. "Just tonight. Just here. Just as long as you want to be, you'll be mine." His back was to the fire, and Vanyel could see every inch of him. And he keeps glancing at it, Stef noted with delight.

Stef bent over him and seized his body again. Keep this moving, he told himself, pushing Vanyel down on his back and planting kisses down his neck. He knew Van was uncertain, needy though he clearly was. He had every reason to be uncertain. I demanded your trust before I earned it. But I'll earn it. I won't use you. I won't deny you. I'll touch you until I've wiped out your last memories of evil. And I can do more with rhythm and timing than any man can with a whip. Stef kissed his way down over his collarbone, and scrunched Van's shirt in his fist, tugging it up over his head. Gods, you're lovely, he thought - pale, not quite so lithe as when they'd first met. All that training had filled him out perfectly. Stefen noted the odd divots above his nipples - like that riverboat sailor he'd spent a night with once. He wrapped his mouth over one of them, licking gently, and Vanyel writhed under him.

He bit down, and his lover moaned, clutching at Stef's hair as he arched under him.

Stef licked at the nipple again in entirely insincere apology. "You liked that," he teased. It always felt like playing an instrument. Feeling out its resonance, making it sing. He offered the other nipple the same treatment, for the sake of harmony. "You really liked that," he observed again. "I'm taking you to bed, he declared, grabbing Vanyel's hands from either side of his head and tugging him unprotesting across the room.

He shoved Vanyel onto the bed, and tumbled on top of him, feeling his lover gasp a breath before their lips met again. Gods, I'm going to enjoy making sure you enjoy this. He took one wrist, and raised it above Van's head as they kissed. And then the other. He crossed them over, rose above him, restraining Vanyel with nothing but his weight and fervent kisses. One hand was enough, to hold down someone who wanted to be held. He wished he had rope - maybe next time. I am going to make you want a next time. His other hand, he swept through Vanyel's hair, splayed artfully over the bedspread. "I want your mouth," he demanded, shuffling up Vanyel's body to plant knees either side of his neck.

That made him more than available, resting above Vanyel's closed lips. Was he comfortable with this? Stef knew that for some men, it was easier to be told. Doubtless especially so if you'd dealt with a monster who would abuse you whenever you put a single step wrong. It was a kindness, if someone else took the lead. Vanyel's lips twitched against him, taking a kiss, a taste, tounguepoint testing his foreskin. Testing himself. Then his mouth dropped open to slip Stef inside, and Stef's back arched over him.

Oh, gods. You're good. Vanyel's tongue swirled soft around the head of his cock, lapping rhythmically under it, circling the tip and then back again. Stef moved against him because he couldn't have done otherwise. He was harpstring-taut, vibrating a clear note as he slipped in and out of Vanyel's mouth. If I think about how you got this good, I'll get angry. Is it safe to be angry? His hand curled in pleasure, tightening in Vanyel's hair. If it means I take damned good care of you? Oh hellfires and heathen gods, you're so good at this.

He bent his head against Vanyel's arms, helplessly kissing the soft skin of his arms. Then following the same path with his teeth. It was a cruel trick, biting a man's inner wrist, and Vanyel whimpered around a mouthful of cock. Doesn't put you off. No, it was just making Van tease him back and oh gods, he was taking Stef deep. I'm losing my mind. Or something. Definitely something, and he pulled back out, and in, and Van's lips tightened over him, back and forth and tighter until he broke.

Pleasure arced through him, and he sagged, and keeled over onto his back beside Vanyel, pulling him close in his aftermath. It was a good thing Vanyel moved so willingly, for he'd no strength at all - and he kissed him, tasting himself and exalting in that pure sense of possession. "You please me," he murmured as they parted, and he felt Vanyel blush. Stef ran a hand down his body, cupping his still-clothed ass to press them together. Feeling Vanyel's cock through his clothing was almost enough to make him hard again. And I did promise you. He raised his hand and brought it down hard.

The slap made Vanyel gasp and grind against him. Stef grinned, and sat up slowly. He hadn't any of the things he might have liked to have to hand - but that might just have intimidated him anyway. And there was a lot he could do with just his bare hands. "Want more of that?" he asked, his voice husky and predatory, the question nevertheless sincere.

Vanyel looked up at him, eyes wide, as if it were strange to really be asked. "Please," he replied.

"I want you naked and over my lap," Stef told him.

He watched Vanyel comply - he seemed hesitant, almost curious, in a way that reminded Stef of the first time he'd played out this game. Tasting the freedom wrapped up in its peculiar roles. He held Stefen's eyes as he slipped his breeches off his hips.

Stef swallowed hard. As beautiful as the rest of him, and he straightened out his legs and tapped the bedspread with a dull thump. Vanyel settled over him slowly, and Stef felt that cock - that beautiful cock that he had such plans for, such pleasant plans - slip into the gap between his thighs. His lips parted at his view of Vanyel's ass - so full and firm, and...

Scarred.

There was no mistaking those marks for anything accidental. He followed the longest of them with a trembling finger, down Vanyel's thigh, where it led into another net of scars. Is it safe to be angry while I hurt you?, and he shuddered with utter loathing for the man who had marred this skin.

Vanyel twisted under him, his face turning aside, and Stef saw his raw breaths and the damp at his lashes. You know exactly what I'm looking at.

It was by the most reckless hunch that he raised his hand again - fast but without force. Vanyel gasped, and his hands curled in his sheets. Centred by sensation. Stef had seen it more than enough times to recognise it, to know how right it could be, so he did it again. "You want me to hurt you?" he murmured, words punctuated by slaps. "I'm going to. I'm going to find all the ways you like to be hurt. All the ways it can remind you that you're here with me." Vanyel cried out, shifting against him, his cock trailing wet against Stef's thigh. His hand stang, and it didn't matter. Not when Vanyel's ass was writhing beneath each slap. And he knew why it mattered. "When I hurt you, you're not alone. You can feel whatever you need to feel with me - I don't care." Harder now, scraping his nails over reddened skin between each blow, because his forearm was aching. His muscles sagged from the weight of this last irony: "I would do anything to ease your pain."

Stef breathed deep, and lay back wearily, wriggling himself out from the gasping, inert weight of Vanyel. He slung a hand over his shoulders, and their eyes met again. Alive and brimming with tears, and that was all Stef could see before he was kissed again, deeply and passionately. He tasted salt, felt shivers of reaction. He felt warm with victory, because I read you right. I gave you what you needed, and it was so satisfying to watch you take it from me. To watch you feel.

His hands cupped Vanyel's face, his fingers catching in his fine black hair. Van looked confused, but in a delighted way; he hadn't anticipated affection from a man who hurt him, which Stef supposed was fair enough if you weren't used to the rules of this odd game. "Shh," he whispered as he drew away. "Glad you enjoyed that as much as I did," and he was gratified when Vanyel blushed.

"I did," he admitted, twitching rather pointedly against the bedspread. "You're right. It...felt like I'm really here. And alive. And touching someone," and he leaned into Stef's light embrace.

Everything I swore I'd give back to you, and Stef rubbed gently at Vanyel's temple. I'm not going to let you go now. "Had enough pain?" he asked. Vanyel merely stared back at him, with a heavy-lidded, insolent smile. Stef caressed his hair, and pulled a fistful of it tight, forcing his lover's neck into an elegant arch. He scraped his teeth along it, enjoying Vanyel's shivers. "Let me take care of you." He slipped down Vanyel's body, planted a not-altogether-kind kiss on his reddened ass, catching flesh between his teeth. His lover hissed sharply. If he'd only had oil, and he left a bite like a promise. Next time. "Turn over," Stef ordered. Vanyel obeyed, and Stef bent his head to his thighs. He paused, enjoying the sight of him, the warm scent of sweat and need, before he began tracing out a scar with his tongue.

Vanyel was immensely patient with his explorations, he noticed. Or, someone taught you not to react too much. Not to seek your own pleasure. That thread of anger was back in him as his lips ran over dark curls of hair. He tasted the base of Van's cock with kisses, slipped his hand around it as he kissed its peak. I doubt I'm as artful as you, but I don't play nice, and he raked his teeth over the head. That got a reaction, another hiss and a hand at his shoulder. He flexed his hand rhythmically, fingertips toying with veins. His lips circled the cock, and his tongue ran soft over its head, tasting the first beads of Vanyel's pleasure.

His cheeks pulled tight as he lowered himself, licking a furious path beneath the head, up and down, hard and rhythmic. Vanyel was touching him, cupping his face in what seemed like surprise, as if simple pleasure had been too much to expect for him. Or not so simple. Stef's hands slipped under his ass, kneading warm, raw flesh as he worked. Van arched against him, and Stefen quickened his movements, looking for the rhythm that would make Vanyel wild with joy.

It wasn't so long before he found it. "Oh gods - Stef, I - please, please -"

Stef realised what he was asking, and raised his head in surprise. He never argued with a man's particular tastes, but - you want permission? To take what I want you to have, in abundance? And you're not even expecting that I'll grant it? The angry growl came to him easily. "I want to taste you. I want to see you taken over by pleasure because of what I do to you. You belong to me tonight," and he left Vanyel to ponder that as he worked his mouth frantically over him. Vanyel's hand slipped from his shoulder, the only warning before he arched and moaned, low and long, as Stef's mouth filled with his sweet release.