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Black’s thrown across the coffee table, legs buckling beneath him, bashed against the hard marble surface before he lands face-first on the couch. Pain explodes along his calf—he already knows he’ll have another bruise in the morning. But he never leaves Todd’s place without at least three of those. He grits his teeth, rolls over, and tries to surge back into his attacker, but Todd’s already down on top of him, grabbing his shoulder and pinning him to the cushion. Black tries for a head-butt—Todd dodges. Todd holds down Black’s legs with his own and flattens their bodies together, hot from head to toe.
Todd’s especially hot when he’s fighting. The collar of his shirt is wide open, exposing a swathe of creamy skin that presses into the ties of Black’s hoodie. Todd’s necklace clinks along Black’s, the pendants hooking together. Todd cups Black’s cheek in his palm and strokes back into Black’s hair, fisting so tight that it hurts.
Everything hurts, always does at Todd’s place, but that’s why Black’s already half-hard. Todd’s just as fucked up—Black can feel Todd’s raging erection grinding into his hip. Todd’s face slams down into Black’s, lips meeting his—Todd shoves his tongue in right away and curls in along Black’s teeth. Black tries to bite it, but Todd’s too fast. He alternates between licking Black out and chewing his bottom lip, close to splitting it open. Black struggles, tries to lift up, and when he fails, he kisses Todd just as forcefully.
He’s fiercest when he’s cornered. He sucks on Todd’s tongue and scrapes Todd’s plush lips, like he’s letting Todd know who’s really in charge. He gives as good as he gets, opening, closing, and kissing harder, more, not letting up—he wants Todd to choke on his tongue and suffocate without air. He finally gets in a bite, digging down into the corner of Todd’s lip, and the coppery tang floods around them. They kiss right through it, neither willing to bow down. To Black, it tastes like victory; he drew the first blood. He deliberately swipes his tongue over the cut, hoping it stings.
When his teeth graze it again, Todd hisses. He pulls back just enough for Black to spit in his face, and Todd winces, automatically reeling away—giving Black just enough room to shove him at the back of the couch and quickly roll out. Tangled up in Todd’s legs, Black crashes to the floor, sandwiched between the couch and coffee table—he tries to scramble up, pushing onto all fours—but Todd slams into the small of his back, and he hits the rug.
At least it’s soft. His knees would be permanently ruined if Todd hadn’t bought that rug. And he knows it really was just for him, because Todd told him so, chuckling that he loves to see Black on his knees so much that Todd had to encourage more. His knees are still sore through his jeans—the corner of the coffee table isn’t nearly so soft.
Black tries to throw Todd into it. He tries to buck like a horse, tries to throw Todd off him, but Todd’s heavy on his back and grabs both of his wrists. Black snarls, trying to pull free, but Todd’s grip is too firm, and he shoots Black’s arms out, holds them straight, guides them to the leg of the couch, one on either side of it—
And the next thing Black knows, there’s a cable tie locked around him, his wrists bound to that wooden leg under all the weight of the couch. The worst part is Todd kissing his cheek and laughing.
Black goes wild. He lashes out, tugging so sharply that the tie digs into his flesh, and that hurts, but he does it anyway, trying vainly to get free—bondage is always a slippery slope with Todd. It can start with handcuffs and wind up with Black in a big metal cage in Todd’s closet, collared and leashed to the bars. He once had to sleep with a spreader-bar on, draped over the bench at the end of Todd’s bed. He’s left Todd’s place in full chastity devices that took hours to get off. He hates when Todd muzzles him, because then he can’t spit on Todd’s floor. And he hates that one gag Todd loves, the one with the dildo attached that goes right down Black’s throat. He tries to crawl forward, willing to bite the tie off him, but Todd’s weight keeps him in place. And Todd bears down over him, hissing in his ear, “You know... I really love it when you struggle.” His tongue laps down the shell, teeth scraping after it. A violent shudder runs down Black’s spine. He loves it too.
He loves it more when he wins—when he’s the one digging bruises into Todd’s skin. He vaguely wonders if Todd’s back is still scarred from the last time Black whipped him. It won’t happen tonight—Black already knows he’s lost.
He fights anyway, because that makes it hotter for both of them. Todd chuckles fondly and kisses the nape of his neck, shoving his forehead right to the floor. Black stays there, bent over, breathing hard and raging. His dick’s throbbing. Todd reaches under him to rip down his thigh, and Black flinches like he thinks Todd’s hand in his pants is disgusting. Todd’s fingers slide over his cock, squeezing appreciatively, and Black shamelessly bucks into it. He vacillates all the time between wanting to kill Todd and marry him. Mostly kill him. They could have one hell of a honeymoon, though. And Black could do a lot of good with Todd’s money, with a man like that under his thumb.
Black could get off on Todd’s pretty face every night, but that’s not how it would go—Black would wind up on his knees just as often, and Todd would wreck the outside world while Black was just surviving the aftermath.
For a tense minute or two, the apartment’s silent—it’s just Todd panting in Black’s ear and playing with his cock. Todd’s is hard against Black’s ass, digging in through his jeans, but Todd finally starts pushing those jeans down. He bunches them past Black’s thighs, then lifts up just enough to smack his cheeks—Black hisses and swears. The hand lingers after, rubbing along his crack, one finger digging down—it finds Black’s hole and pushes greedily at his entrance. Black can feel lubrication leaking out of him around it, prompted by Todd’s poking and prodding. Todd rubs in a little circle around it, bidding out more and more. And he laughs in Black’s ear, “What a filthy slut you are, Black. You’re already so wet for me...”
Of course Black prepared himself before coming over. He’s not stupid. He mutters, “What, did you think I’d let you take me dry?” He’s been down that road before. He’s bled around Todd’s cock, and he still comes back for more.
Todd hums, “No, but I am going to take you raw.” And he thrusts his finger in deep, punctuating by twisting it around. Black’s breath cuts off in an involuntary cry. There’s a condom in his wallet, but he knows Todd won’t use it. He’s fairly certain that they’re exclusive anyway, in their weird, fucked up way—he never goes to anyone else, and Todd teases about having plenty of eager whores in his bed, but they both know he’s lying. Black’s set the bar too high. No one can excite Todd like Black can, and besides, no one else will put up with his sick games. Black’s the only one that’ll let Todd choke him out one night and come back to return the favour the next. No one else gets to come in Black’s ass, or Todd’s. Black knew what he was in for when he came over. He stretched himself wide and lubed up before mounting his bike, and he fingered himself again in the bathroom while Todd was still taking a phone call. He also used Todd’s toothbrush and spit in Todd’s mouthwash.
Metal clinks—Todd’s belt opening. He’s still fingering Black while he lets himself out, and Black takes the chance to struggle again, squirming around Todd’s finger. Todd just thrusts it in deeper, pushing Black’s hips back to the floor. When the finger withdraws, he actually misses it, at least until he feels Todd’s hard cock press between his cheeks.
It’s long, thick, hot, and dry—the lube in Black’s channel will have to be enough. Black does everything he can not to press up into it, not to grind himself along the pole. Todd’s arm comes to bracket his side, hand reaching up for his hair. Todd pets him almost tenderly, taunting him, and asks, “Any last words?”
Black grunts, “Fuck you.” He gets the irony. Todd kisses his cheek and lines up, pushing in.
The first breach is enough to make Black’s toes curl. His teeth grit together, and he tries not to scream, tries not to give Todd the satisfaction, but he’s writhing as more goes in—Todd presses forward, feeding him bit by bit, shoving inside in sharp, stuttering thrusts. It opens Black up whether he likes it or not, and part of him does, part of him doesn’t—it feels odd, intrusive, and erotic all at once—because the mere thought of Todd being in him feels good. He’s conditioned to like it, to want it. He wants to ride Todd’s dick and close his hands around Todd’s throat. There aren’t many others he could do that to, although he’s thought about it with Sean.
Sean’s nothing compared to Todd. Todd’s brutal, shoving in until he’s ball-deep, then just going harder, stabbing in at random angles, careless of where he hits, what he touches—he could find Black’s prostate, could hit it every time, but he won’t, because he’s evil—he probably likes the idea of Black coming just from being hurt. Black curls his fingers into his palms enough to almost break skin. His arms are shaking. He angrily gulps in breath while Todd slams down into his ass over and over.
It burns, it stretches him, drags along his inner walls, and sometimes it feels so good that he cries out. Todd hits the right spot and loses it again, but those little spasms in between are enough to keep Black hard, humping the ground, grinding into his own underwear. He wishes it were off—he wants to come on Todd’s rug. Tons of things in Todd’s place are stained with Black’s cum. He prefers coming on Todd’s face. He wants to come in Todd’s ass and take a picture, then post it for everyone to see.
He’s lucky Todd never does that. Todd doesn’t share. He looks Black’s mother right in the eye and tells her Black’s fine, they’re doing great, when really they fight like dogs and fuck likes cats in heat. It’s just as gruesome. Todd scratches his nails along Black’s scalp and moans, “You’ve got such a tight ass, Black. It’s a wonder I ever let you leave.”
Black lets himself leave. He tries to elbow Todd off, but it doesn’t work, only results in Todd grabbing his hair and jerking him back—Black can’t help a cry as he’s pulled up, head twisted over his shoulder. Todd comes down to slam their lips together, forcing another kiss.
Black kisses back and tongues at the scab until it breaks, until he’s tasting Todd’s blood again, and this time Todd takes it, refusing to let go. He fucks Black’s mouth with his tongue while he fucks Black’s ass with his dick. He makes no effort to touch Black’s cock again and probably won’t the whole time. They kiss like desperate newlyweds until Todd abruptly shoves him back down, pinning him to the floor. A glob of spit lands on his cheek and dribbles down his chin. He glares up but can’t return it. Todd’s smirking like the villain of a superhero, and Black hates how sexy that makes him.
Black’s close. So close. It’s awful, but it’s good, and he gets so hard for Todd’s monstrous touch. It’s like Todd can sense it, because he comes back down, opening his mouth to bite into Black’s shoulder—he clamps down until Black screams. He sucks, grinding in, then moves over and does it again, marking Black up while his hands reach under Black’s shirt. He runs his hands up and down Black’s stomach, his abs, flattening over his pecs and flicking his nipples—Todd pinches both of them and tugs, playing just as rough—Black can’t help himself, can’t stop humping the rug—he arches off the floor, and Todd pulls him back by the nipples, so hard that Black comes like a hurricane.
It’s horrible. It’s glorious. Black’s eyes roll back in his head, body seizing up as he splatters his underwear. He knows he’s moaning, sobbing, making all the noises that he tries to hold back, because he doesn’t want to give Todd that feedback but just can’t help it. He cries himself hoarse and spasms, trying to grind down but still at the mercy of Todd’s thrusts. Todd keeps fucking into him, over and over, rough and merciless, even after Black’s gone limp and boneless.
Todd fucks him anyway. Black lies there, pliant. Spent. His head’s foggy in the wake of the orgasm. His skin’s prickling. He feels overheated and heavy. And he feels thoroughly used, because Todd won’t stop. Todd kisses his throat and whispers in his ear, “Whore.”
Black shivers. He tries to clench up. He squeezes his channel as tight as he can, wracking a groan out of Todd, knowing he’s making it better for his captor but just wanting Todd to come already. It doesn’t take long for Black to milk him out. He shudders and bursts under Black’s attention, filling up Black’s ass. And he pounds it all in as deep as possible. Then he’s slumping too, falling atop Black like a sack of bricks. Todd’s panting in his ear, sticky and gross. Still inside him. It’s not as hot in the aftermath. If anything, it starts feeling strange, awkward, then downright uncomfortable.
Black wriggles his hips, trying to give Todd the message. But Todd just starts mouthing at his neck, like he’s a chew toy or some other plaything, always ready to go.
He rolls his shoulders, trying to shrug Todd off, and mutters, “Get off me.”
“Not until you say the magic word.” Todd’s hands take another trip across Black’s chest before sliding out of the bunched-up hoodie. Then they’re in Black’s hair. It’s always annoying to have Todd play with his hair, because it’s so domestic, feels so sweet, and they’re not sweet. They’re anything but. Todd slaps the side of Black’s head and orders, “Say it.”
Black doesn’t, of course. But he does think about it. He’s sated enough for that. He debates staying for dinner, champagne, spending the rest of the night curled up in Todd’s amazingly comfortable bed. He’d get room service in the morning and have Todd suck his morning wood.
It’s not worth humbling himself for a scumbag like Todd. He stays stubbornly silent. Todd sighs.
He presses a warm, lingering kiss to Black’s temple. Then he finally pushes up, dragging his semi-stiff cock out of Black’s ass. His channel gapes open, trembling emptily, leaking lube and cum. Todd’s weight climbs off him, and he hears Todd stand up, hears the belt rustle. When Black lazily glances over, Todd looks pristine. He scrubs a hand through his hair and decides, “I’m going to have a shower. If you haven’t figured out how to get loose by the time I’m back, maybe I’ll take pity on you.” He kicks Black in the shin for good measure, then strolls away.
Black lies where he is, seething with anger and satisfaction.
And maybe a bit of anticipation for next time.