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Checo's too proud to admit he wants Daniel to tie the blindfold. His shaking fingers fumble slightly with the strip of black cloth as he brings it up to his eyes and knots it behind his head.
"You good?" Daniel asks. There is a hint of amusement to his tone, but also a softness that makes something warm uncurl in Checo's stomach, and he exhales to relax himself. He really can't see a thing, and it puts him on edge. The material is thick, and no light gets through. His ears strain to hear what Daniel is doing, but he's not moving right now.
"Good," he confirms, trying to sound confident.
There's no sudden rustling of clothes, or steps across the floor. When he put the blindfold on, Daniel was shirtless, but he'd persuaded Checo with that idiot grin to strip off completely. So here he sits on the edge of the bed, hands clasped prudishly in his lap, feeling his nipples harden from the cold of the air-conditioned room. His dick is half-hard already just from the promise that Daniel is going to do something to help him. Help him relieve these increasingly deviant urges with a knowing chuckle and a casual shrug that implied he should have asked sooner.
Daniel isn't doing anything. Checo wants to say something, snap at him to hurry up, but that's not the deal. He let Daniel take control because he needs to let go of everything. It's hard, because he can't relax his mind nor his muscles. He wishes he'd had a drink or a smoke before they started, but it's too late now.
He can't hear Daniel's breathing. He can't even smell his cologne. As the seconds pass, he wonders if Daniel is even still in the room. Maybe he snuck out and this was all a dumb joke, to make Checo feel stupid and disgusting for chasing after other men. He tries be patient, think about something else, but he's so keyed up, his thoughts are a wild mess of nerves mixed with hot arousal.
His heart is hammering like a wild animal caught in a trap, and he can't take it any more.
"Daniel," he rasps, blindly reaching out.
"I'm here," Daniel answers soothingly, breaking the silence and moving closer to kneel in front of him.
Relief floods through him at that, and it's magnified tenfold when he feels Daniel put his hand on Checo's chest, trailing his fingers gently down his body to make Checo shiver.
His other hand gently moves Checo's hands away from his lap, and closes around his cock. Checo inhales sharply, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning. Daniel's thumb swipes over the head of his dick and he jerks forward in surprise, unprepared for the intensity of it.
"Just relax," Daniel murmurs. Only now, the humour's disappeared from his voice, replaced by a lazy confidence. He starts jacking Checo's dick, slow with a loose grip, his other hand coming up to cup his face. He presses two fingers against Checo's lips, who without thinking, opens his mouth and lets Daniel slide them in against his tongue.
His face flushes red with shame, but he obligingly sucks on his fingers, spurred on by Daniel telling him that's it, that's good.
"You look so beautiful right now," Daniel tells him, way too conversationally. "Don't know why you let me do this to you."
Checo doesn't have an answer. He's glad his mouth is full so he doesn't have to provide one, although he still thinks about it. Because I'm desperate. Because I felt like I could trust you.
"It's okay," Daniel adds, sensing Checo's internal conflict. "I'm glad you did. Just want to help you, yeah?"
Checo nods as best he can with Daniel's fingers crammed in his mouth. The grip around his cock gets tighter, and Daniel speeds up into jacking him fast and rough. A muffled groan escapes his lips- this is everything he needed. Every sensation is magnified because he can't see, he can't do anything but feel.
He's so close to the edge already, and he'd be embarrassed about it if he wasn't so far gone. Daniel is relentless. Daniel pulls his hand away from Checo's mouth and traces wet fingers around his nipples, breath hitching when Daniel pinches one, hard, between his fingers. Checo's whole body feels like it's on fire.
"Gonna come for me?" Daniel murmurs.
Checo breathes out. "Yeah," he whispers, self-conscious as hell but not daring to displease Daniel in case he stops.
Which he does.
The hands touching him fall away, leaving him a sensitive, shivering mess. He feels like he could almost come right now if he tried really hard- the head of his swollen dick is slick with precome, and his pulse is racing.
Daniel says nothing. There's a pause that lasts for an age. Everything is so dark.
This time he hears footsteps traverse the room, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him. Checo is left alone, hard and aching, vision obscured completely. He's hyper aware of everything around him- the way the comforter feels beneath his ass and thighs, his feet sinking into the plush carpet. The cool temperature, the faint smell of cleaning products and an air freshener.
He could take the blindfold off. He would struggle to untie the knot just by feeling for it, but he'd manage. And light, reassuring light, would flood his eyes, bringing him back down safely to the moment. He could also get himself off, just a hand curled around his cock, the slightest touch enough to have him coming messily over his fingers and stomach.
Daniel left. He might not even come back. Checo hates himself for the way tears prick at his eyes in an emotional reaction that feels childish and disproportionate. He's feeling stupidly fragile, but he vows to see this through and not give in. He gave Daniel total control, and taking it away as soon as things get a little uncomfortable won't satisfy either of them. He asked for this, even though when he's thinking with his dick, it's hard to remember why.
It's supposed to fix things. If he's never satisfied, maybe he can train himself out of craving it.
He focuses on counting the number of seconds to inhale, then to exhale. He ignores the prickling feeling of unease at the back of his mind, the one that tells him he's making a fool of himself. He ignores the urge to touch himself, or rut up against the bed. He just sits, willing himself to calm down, until his breathing evens out, and his erection starts to flag.
He has no idea how long it takes, but when the door finally opens again, he feels like he's been there for months. Forgotten, unwanted. He tenses, needing to make sure it's Daniel.
"Hey," the familiar voice says, close to the bed. Checo relaxes, but as he does it, an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability floods through him. Daniel's hands go to the back of his head and make short work of the blindfold, pulling it gently away from his face. He blinks, eyes hurting from the sudden change from total darkness to glaring light. Daniel sits beside him and looks him intently in the eye, until he comes back into focus, and Checo feels himself going slightly red under his concerned gaze.
In these moments, he never knows how to act. Silent submission is easier than he'd like to admit, but the affectionate small talk he's expected to make afterwards only serves to make him feel awkward and ashamed. He'd rather pretend it never happened, hold on to that small part of his dignity and masculinity, until the next time he loses them in his destructive pursuits of sin.
He wonders if Daniel went and jerked himself off. Whether or not he got off on this at all, or he was only doing this out of pity. He's impossibly nice, and it's been difficult for Checo to keep himself emotionally detached, especially with someone who seems to know what he needs even before he does. Maybe he hasn't. Maybe he is attached. He can't bear to think about that right now.
Checo feels exhausted. Getting so worked up with no pay-off is the most depressing feeling he's ever experienced. It hits him hard, all of his insecurities coming up to the surface. His dick has long since softened, but it had taken a long time for his body to accept that he wasn't going to come. He wasn't going to let himself come.
"I don't understand why you'd do that to yourself," Daniel says softly. Checo allows him to wrap his arms around his waist, and nuzzle against his neck a little.
"You can't always get what you want," Checo answers. He leans his head against Daniel's shoulder and swallows, his mouth dry. "I need to learn that."