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Jonah is the perfect boyfriend, in every regard. Well, every regard, that is, except one. Brian’s been voluntarily celibate for the last three years, since he found himself dating the perfect man, who also happened to be asexual. By jove does Brian jerk off a lot.
“Oh, Bri! I got you a present,” Jonah announces as he wanders into the sitting room to find Brian on the couch. “It’s kinda weird, you don’t have to accept it.”
“You got me a present?” Brian repeats, bouncing to his feet and striding to meet Jonah in the middle of the room, curling his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders as he presses a kiss to his lips. “Thank you!”
“You don’t know what it is, yet, you might hate it—”
“Spit it out, Jo,” Brian says with a grin, and Jonah takes a deep breath, a slight smirk gracing the corner of his lips as he asks—
“Have you heard of piss?”
The surprised laugh the question alone drags out of Brian nearly knocks him flat on his ass, leaning on Jonah for support as he wheezes, “I’m sorry, what?”
Jonah just watches him for a moment, letting Brian get his breath back. “The Polygon Institute of Sexual Satisfaction,” he continues eventually, deadpan, “PISS, for short.”
“My god, Jo, that got me good,” Brian breathes, curling himself back around Jonah, kissing up Jonah’s beardy neck. “Was that my present? The knowledge that there’s a— a sex place, called PISS? I’ll treasure it dearly for the rest of my life.”
“I hired you an escort, Brian,” Jonah replies, quiet, but sure. “That’s the present.”
Brian’s breath catches and he steps back, and back a little more, until his calves hit the coffee table. Jonah’s face is stoic, like this isn’t a bit, like he actually did this. He watches Jonah in silence for a few seconds, before quietly asking, “Why?”
“Let’s sit down,” Jonah says, taking Brian’s hand and leading him to the couch, sitting them sideways so they’re facing each other. He takes another deep breath before answering Brian’s question, “Because you’re horny all the time, Bri, and I— I can’t help that. I know you don’t resent me for it, but I feel like I’m holding you back from what you want—what you need.” Jonah doesn’t usually show much emotion, but his eyes are welling up as he speaks, “I love you, and you love me, but there’s something you want that I can’t give you… Well, I found a way.”
Brian eyes Jonah sceptically. It doesn’t feel like a trick, Jonah isn’t like that. “I’m happy,” Brian tries, biting his lip.
Jonah pulls his phone out, tapping around for a few moments, and then Brian feels his own phone buzz in his pocket. “It’s tonight. I texted you the details. Like I said, you don’t have to go, but… I think you want to.” He pitches forward, pressing a quick kiss to Brian’s lips. “I love you, I’ve gotta go, I’m late to meet Sierra, stop thinking so hard!” he instructs, jumping up from the couch and zipping to the door. And then, he’s gone.
This part, this was definitely orchestrated. Dropping this on Brian and then leaving him to have his thoughts about it in private. He doesn’t—he’s been with Jonah for three years, and he loves him; he doesn’t need sex to be happy.
But on the other hand, he is waking up with a boner more and more often these days, like he’s fifteen again, and there’s only so many times you can jerk off in the shower before you realise how much you miss doing it in a bed. It makes Jonah uncomfortable, so Brian doesn’t do it there any more—not even when he’s home alone.
It’s not like this was his idea. Jonah’s literally handing him this opportunity on a silver platter; Brian would be mad to turn it down.
He fishes his phone out of his pocket.
> Patrick (Pat) Gill
> Escort at Polygon Institute of Sexual Satisfaction (PISS)
> 35 years of age, cisgender male
> 9.5 inches
> Hilton Garden Inn, Times Square, 9pm
> Wait at the hotel bar wearing a red shirt
Brian’s eyes are wide as he reads and rereads the text. Nine and a half, huh? His gaze flicks to the corner of his phone—6pm—and then to the window, where the sun is setting somewhere behind all the buildings.
He bites his lip, and starts to type back to Jonah.
Did you tell him anything about me? <
The reply comes instantly, like Jonah was sat waiting for him to ask.
> General physical profile. That you haven’t had sex in a while but you’d LOVE to be treated like a submissive little bitch :)
Fucking hell, Jonah <
> Have fun! I love you!
Brian sighs, scrolling back up to the message with the escort’s information. Pat Gill.
It’s 8:45pm when he climbs the steps out of the subway. A glance at his phone tells him it’s only a few minutes walk, so he shoves it into his pocket and wanders in the direction of the hotel. The moon is bright in the sky overhead, and Brian watches it as he walks. He’s about to get fucked for the first time in three years—god, is this why Jonah’s been cooking him more healthy meals recently? A more bottom-friendly diet. How long has he been planning this?
The hotel looms overhead as he approaches, like the rest of the buildings in Times Square, and he adjusts the collar of his red flannel shirt as he makes his way into the lobby. He locates the bar immediately, and suddenly feels underdressed; it’s fancy in here. But he’s come this far, and he’s not going to back out now that he’s so close.
Feigning confidence he doesn’t feel, he sits on one of the raised barstools and—when the bartender nods her head at him—orders a scotch on the rocks. His stomach fills with butterflies as he thinks about Pat. He doesn’t even know what the guy looks like, besides the size of his hog. Which is going to be inside him, tonight! He drops a hand to his lap to (hopefully) subtly adjust his cock, taking a deep swig of whiskey and trying not to cough as it hits sharp in the back of his throat.
He zones out a little, sipping his drink as he tries to imagine what the night ahead will hold. What he’ll ask for— it’s been so long since he last had sex he doesn’t even know what he wants tonight to be!
“Brian?” a voice behind him asks, as a hand touches firm against his shoulder, and Brian whips around to finally put a face to the name. “Are you waiting for me?”
He’s tall, and lanky as hell, with long dark hair framing his face. Not exactly what he’d been picturing when Jonah said he’d told him that Brian was a submissive little bitch. He expected more of— of a dom. “Pat?” Brian asks, and the man nods. He notices belatedly that Pat is also wearing a red flannel, and quips, “One of us is going to have to change.”
“Won’t matter, soon,” Pat says easily, “Follow me, if you’ve finished your drink.” He takes a step back, hoisting the bag on his shoulder with a smile.
Okay, he’s cute, Brian’ll give him that. He slams the last of his scotch and hops down off the barstool, smiling back at Pat. He’s been nervous as hell ever since Jonah dropped this on him, but somehow, Pat’s calm, pleasant demeanour put him instantly at ease.
Pat leads them to the bank of elevators, stepping aside when the doors open to let Brian walk in first. Thank you, Brian murmurs, leaning against the wall as Pat selects the floor.
“So, what are we—”
Pat presses a finger to Brian’s lips gently, even though they’re alone in the small space. “When we get to the room,” he says quietly, using that same hand to brush Brian’s hair behind his ear as they hear a Bing! Third floor.
Brian shuts his mouth, following Pat out of the lift and down a seemingly endless maze of corridors until they reach the room. It’s only been three hours since he found out this was happening, but after being celibate for three years, Brian finds himself rocking on the balls of his feet, eager to get going as Pat holds a keycard to the door handle, and it flashes green.
“So,” Pat says as he closes the door behind them, “I hear you like to be tied up.” He strides confidently into the room and drops his shoulder bag on the bed with a thump. “I brought rope,” he says, looking back over his shoulder at Brian as he unzips the bag, “or handcuffs, if you wanna go quick and dirty with it.” His smile is infectious, and Brian can’t help but smile back as he approaches Pat.
“Straight to business, huh?”
“I figured you’re pretty desperate for it,” Pat says easily, his eyes coasting down Brian’s body to settle on his already hard cock where it tents the seat of his pants, and Brian feels the flush from his cheeks to his toes, moving a hand to cover himself. “It’s hot,” Pat shrugs, continuing, “it’s been a while, hm?”
“My boyfriend is asexual,” Brian explains as Pat turns back to his bag, “I jerk off a lot.”
Pat lets out a snort of a laugh at that, murmuring, “I bet you do,” as he strips off his overshirt, then his undershirt, letting Brian gaze upon the pale, skinny form hiding underneath. “Come on, let’s get on the bed,” Pat tips his head before jumping onto the cozy-looking comforter, grinning up at Brian, “you can tell me all your nasty little desires.”
Brian laughs, stripping off his own shirts much the same and clambering up beside Pat. “You can’t really scare me,” Brian says, matter-of-fact, “I’m horny as hell and into just about everything.”
“Hot,” Pat groans, pitching towards Brian, “can I touch you?”
Brian feels himself nod nod nod, desperate after so long without, and Pat presses a hand against his bare shoulder, tipping Brian onto his back and looming over him. “Do—do you kiss?” Brian asks, a little embarrassed at the question.
Pat responds by swooping down to Brian’s mouth, the hand on his shoulder sliding up to cup his face as he drinks deeply from the well of him. Brian whimpers weakly into Pat’s mouth, letting his own hand creep down under the waistband of his jeans. By the time he pulls away, Brian is panting desperately underneath him, his hand wrapped around his little cock in the tight space inside his pants.
“That answer your question?” Pat asks with a smirk, his eyes flicking down to Brian’s hand in his lap.
“Uh huh,” Brian groans in response, “please, tie me up or I’m gonna bust a nut right now and ruin everything.”
“We can’t have that, now can we?” Pat grips Brian’s forearm, yanking his hand out of his jeans and pressing it into the mattress above Brian’s head. “You want me to be a little rough with you?” he asks, lifting Brian’s other arm to match, holding them both in one big hand’s vice-like grip.
“Uh huh,” Brian repeats, his hips flexing off the bed, all two of his functioning brain cells focused on the tight grip of Pat’s hands holding him down.
“Safeword?” Pat asks, sliding his free hand up Brian’s ticklish ribs, making him jerk in place.
Brian gasps, squeezing his eyes closed, this is really happening. “Traffic light system?” he offers, and Pat hums an affirmative.
“Can you be a good boy and keep your hands where I put them while I get the rope?” Pat asks, a threat in his voice, and Brian nods, clenching his hands together to resist the temptation. Pat hoists himself to a sitting position, and Brian finally gets the chance to glance at his lap, where—good lord, he wasn’t kidding.
Brian watches Pat slide towards his bag, the easy fluid movement of him, while Brian feels incapacitated just from being asked to stay still. He can’t help but keep talking as Pat comes back with a generous length of rope between his hands. “So what do you like?” Brian asks, fixing Pat with his flirtiest gaze.
“Whatever you like, baby,” Pat murmurs back, easy, hoisting a leg over Brian’s chest to start looping rope around his forearms.
“O-oh,” Brian gasps softly, as Pat’s gigantic boner hovers mere inches from his face, trapped cruelly behind tight denim. “Can I suck you?” Brian whispers, his mouth slack, “While you tie me up?”
Pat snorts, cupping Brian’s face in one of his big hands. He lifts his gaze towards Brian’s own hands, curled into loose fists above his head. “Can you snap?” he asks softly, and Brian does so immediately, easy as pie.
“Acapella kid,” Brian mumbles, as an explanation, and Pat laughs as he lifts his body and unbuttons his pants, working them down enough that his masterpiece of a cock can fall out, too heavy to even hold itself up.
“That’s your safeword,” Pat says, slapping Brian’s cheek lightly when he doesn’t respond, too enraptured by the sight in front of him. “You listenin’ to me, kid?” Pat asks, and Brian mumbles a weak yessir.
He drags his eyes back up to Pat’s face, repeating, “Snap if I need you to stop,” before begging, “please,” and dropping his jaw, offering Pat the soft pillow of his tongue.
“Good boy,” Pat praises, and Brian feels the corners of his lips tug upwards as Pat feeds—well, a lot of cock into Brian’s waiting mouth.
Mmm, he hums, and Pat pauses at that depth, turning his attention back to connecting Brian’s forearms together. Brian would be impressed with the speed and intricacy of Pat’s knots, if he wasn’t extremely pre-occupied sucking the biggest cock he’s ever seen, let alone interacted with. He closes his eyes and works his jaw, swallowing down the salty taste of him as he warms Pat’s magnificent cock in preparation for the main event.
Some unknowable amount of time later, Pat slowly begins to slide his hips back, and Brian moans in protest at the loss of the big cock filling his mouth. “Flex your wrists for me?” Pat murmurs, watching Brian’s hands as he settles himself back on his chest, cock just out of reach.
Brian had kind of forgotten that Pat was binding him, so focused as he was on his previous task, and flexes his forearms where they’re tied together above his head, twisting his wrists easily at the end of the bindings. He’s never been tied like this, each of his hands by the opposite elbow, resting comfortably against the top of his head. “Feels good,” he smiles, biting his lip, “I feel very exposed.”
“Can you still snap?” Pat asks, and Brian does, snapping out a little tune using both hands, and smiles up at Pat.
“Your cock is amazing,” Brian whispers, awed, as Pat climbs off his chest, slinking down the bed to unbutton Brian’s jeans, looking up for confirmation before pulling them down his legs, cupping his hard little bulge through the fabric of his boxers.
“Thanks, baby,” Pat responds, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Brian’s underwear, “let’s see yours.”
Brian doesn’t have dick shame, not really. He’s always been pleased with how his little cock nestles easily between his thighs, and it makes his natural physicality so much easier—he doesn’t even have to wear a dance belt when he’s performing, most of the time. But under the gaze of this other man, this new person with the best cock he’s ever seen, he suddenly feels a little bashful.
“It’s not much,” Brian groans as Pat’s curled fingers tug on his boxers, pulling them down efficiently. Pat smiles down at him as Brian springs to attention.
“I love it, baby,” Pat grins, spitting into his hand and twisting it around Brian with the casual finesse of someone who definitely knows their way around a cock.
“Guuuuh, fuuuuckk, Brian gasps, his body jerking desperately towards the sensation. Pat's hand engulfs him completely, and Brian screws his eyes shut, jerking his head to the side in the space between his bound arms.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Pat’s voice is soft, but somehow not condescending, as he rubs his thumb over the sensitive ridge on the underside of Brian's cock, “you’re so high strung, look at you.”
Brian grits his teeth, trying to suppress the shiver rolling down his spine. “Like I said—” he grunts, twitching as Pat gently strokes him, “s’been a while.”
Pat slides both hands up Brian's belly, flicking his nipples on the way past as he settles on his elbows over Brian, cupping both hands under his chin to drag him into a passionate kiss. When he finally pulls away, he wriggles out of his jeans and underwear before rolling casually onto his side, propping his head up on his bent arm. “So,” he chuckles softly, running his free hand across Brian's torso, “you’ve got me ‘til midnight, baby, tell me your dirty little fantasies.”
“Um,” Brian bites his lip, and his eyes fall to Pat’s heavy cock, “you can do a-anything to me. C-call me names, hit me, fuck me—” he would shrug if he had the ability to move his arms at all, “J-just leave my dick alone for a while, or I’m gonna embarrass myself.”
“Oh, you want me to be nasty?” Pat grins, rocking back up onto his knees to crowd Brian down into the bed, snapping his teeth an inch from Brian’s jaw, and Brian nods desperately. “You want me to fuck your tiny virgin hole with my gigantic cock? Gonna fucking break you,” he snarls.
“I’m not—” Brian starts, then stops himself, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. He drops one knee to the side, opening himself up invitingly while Pat grabs a huge bottle of lube from his duffel.
“Something to say?” Pat asks, slicking up two long fingers and pressing them against Brian's tight pucker with a mean little smile.
“Nope,” Brian shakes his head, “please, fuck my v-virgin hole.” Even if it’s not technically true; after over three years he’s probably tight enough to fool anyone. He has dildos, but it’s not the same, plus the added awkwardness of doing it in the shower—he usually doesn't bother.
“That's what I wanted to hear,” Pat says, sliding a slick finger into Brian, finding his prostate almost instantly and making him jerk up off the bed with a gasp. “D’you want me to open you up gentle, or get rough with it?”
Brian squeezes his eyes closed, rocking himself on Pat’s finger, “Want your fat cock in me,” he grunts, “as soon as possible—”
“Correct answer,” Pat growls, pulling out and slamming back in with two, making Brian cry out in surprise. “Shut your slutty little mouth,” he snarls, cruelly scissoring his fingers in Brian.
“Ah, ffffuuhhh, hurts,” Brian whimpers as Pat’s long fingers plunge deep in him. He pushes his shoulders up off the bed, trying to twist away from the intrusion, “Owwwww.”
Pat eyes him critically, stilling his hand for a moment, and quietly says “Colour?”
“Green, fuck,” Brian gasps immediately, “gag me, please. Fuck me up.”
Pat lets a grin curl at the corner of his mouth, the cartoon villain vibes dialled up to eleven, and reaches over to his bag to pull out an O-ring gag. It only takes a moment for Pat to wrench his fingers from Brian and loop the straps around the back of his head, kindly avoiding using his penetrating fingers to force the gag between Brian's teeth, and then not-so-kindly plunging those clean fingers down onto the back of Brian’s tongue.
Brian gags, a horrid choking gurrrk belching from him, and screws his eyes tight. “Uuuuhhhhh,” he manages, blinking back up at Pat as his fingers retreat and he settles back between Brian’s legs.
“Now that that’s settled,” Pat says smugly, smearing his hand with lube, “I can actually open you up, no more fuss.” Brian whimpers as Pat hooks his hand under Brian's knee, pressing it up into his chest, and kisses what feels like the tips of three fingers to his hole.
Gosh, he told Pat to go rough, but— “Gnnnngghhhhhh,” he moans through the gag as Pat bullies his way inside. Definitely slower this time, but still, fuck. Not like he’s complaining, though, if the sticky puddle on his belly and his rock hard cock are anything to go by. He watches Pat eyeing him there, watching his dick desperately drool a lake of precome as his ass is brutally stretched wide.
“Gorgeous,” Pat murmurs, twisting his hand to rub his thumb over the soft skin of Brian’s taint, and Brian feels his heart flutter pathetically in the cage of his chest.
No. Stop it. Your boyfriend is paying for an escort to fuck you. Stop feeling things, Brian, you fucking ass.
Pat glances up at his face, sensing Brian’s momentary anguish. “You okay?” he asks, and Brian nods. “Want me to take the gag off?” Brian shakes his head. He tries to convey just keep going, please with his eyes. Pat watches him for another moment, and quietly adds, “I will stop this if I think I need to.”
“I unga-hang,” Brian says around the metal between his teeth, “lees.”
Pat nods, rearranging himself to press a knee down on Brian's thigh, forcing him open as he goes back to twisting his fingers in the easily loosening expanse of Brian's ass, brushing against his prostate with every press.
Brian moans brokenly, rocking his hips into Pat as shivers travel up his spine. “I’n ehhd-ee,” he whimpers, locking eyes with Pat, “huck ee.”
“You sure?” Pat asks, freeing a hand to squeeze lube into the crease of him, coating his fingers anew, “gonna ruin your pretty little hole,” he warns, and Brian feels that shimmer light up his chest again. He nods, firmly, as a glob of drool slides sluggishly down his cheek.
He does want this, he wants it so bad, but it’s only when Pat lines up the head of his cock to Brian’s (suddenly so tight) asshole, that it really sinks in that maybe they went a little fast. Pat slathers himself in yet more lube and flicks his eyes between Brian's mouth and his hands.
“If you’re gonna safeword, I’d advise doing it now,” Pat warns, rocking the head of his cock into the tight pucker of Brian.
This is gonna hurt. Brian smiles around the metal of the gag and slowly, deliberately curls both hands into tight fists.
“AAUUUOGGGGHHHHHH—.” The sound rips itself involuntarily from Brian's throat as Pat plunges deep and wide inside him. He wants to scream, he feels like Pat is ripping him in half, and he fucking asked for it. He’s on fire and he’s dying and he’s tied down and there's nothing he can do about it.
Pat rocks down over him and presses his mouth to the open O of Brian’s, swallowing Brian's pained cries like they're his own. “Shh, shh,” he hushes, and Brian feels a thumb swipe his cheek—wet—as Pat flutters gentle kisses across his unresponsive lips, stretched wide around the metal gag. “There’s a good boy,” he soothes quietly, his hips stilled in Brian.
Brian's heart pangs with appreciation that Pat can read the room on when he needs a moment of gentle care— No, stop it! He shakes his head within the confines of his bound arms and thrusts his hips up against Pat’s, begging with his body for Pat to continue. It hurts, but the pain is at least a momentary distraction from the pounding of his heart that he’s desperately trying to ignore.
Pat takes the hint, pushing up on his arms to loom over Brian as he rocks his hips out and back in, setting a steady, thudding pace into Brian's tight, hot channel.
Unn-hnnnh, Brian garbles through his gag, feeling his eyes roll back into his head, guuuuuuhhhh.
“Hot,” Pat snarls, sliding the flat of his palm from Brian's armpit up the ticklish underside of his arm. When he reaches Brian's hand, bound in place beside his elbow, he links their fingers together as his hips keep up their punishing clip.
Brian locks eyes with Pat before flicking them down to his own dick, desperately leaking into the concave dip of his belly. He rolls his hips up, trying to grind himself against Pat’s tummy with every thrust.
“You wanna come?” Pat snarks, a mean glint in his eye, “Little baby virgin wants to come on daddy’s big mean cock?” Brian feels himself nodding frantically. “Then do it.”
Everything in Brian's body floods to his cock and he lets out a yell through his stretched open lips as, from Pat’s instruction alone, he shoots a load all over the both of them. His vision blacks out for a moment and a cacophonous ringing fills his ears. His body feels like it’s buzzing, like someone just zapped him with an electrical current. Ohhhhh, ouugghhhh, he groans, as his senses slowly filter back into him, and he realises that Pat is still fucking steadily into his tight asshole.
“God, perfect, baby,” Pat groans, unlinking his hand from Brian's to swipe his fingers through the mess; using them to paint Brian's tongue with his own come. “Look at you.”
Brian whimpers as Pat’s fingers pet over his tongue, and his cock continues to thrum against Brian's now over-sensitive prostate. He clenches down hard around Pat, trying to urge him on, to get him off.
Pat smiles as he comes, thrusting one moment and stilling the next, letting a gentle expression flood his face as he empties his seed into Brian’s waiting hole, and Brian wants to curl up into a ball and combust at the way it makes his heart soar, in a way he hasn’t felt in years.
Pat drops his head to Brian's chest, panting weakly as he comes down from his orgasm. When he looks back up, that smile is still firmly in place across his handsome face. With his softening dick still buried deep up in Brian's guts, and his torso resting heavily against the wet mess of Brian’s belly, he curls a hand up behind Brian's head and unclasps the gag.
Brian loosens the tight clamp of his jaw, letting Pat work the metal from between his teeth, and cringes as it drags a trail of spit across his cheek when Pat takes it away.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Pat murmurs, wiping saliva from Brian's mouth and face gently with his thumb, “didn’t know you could come on command like that,” he says, awe in his voice, “was amazing.”
Brian’s voice creaks as he tries to speak, “N-neither did I.”
That makes Pat’s smile light up even brighter, and Brian closes his eyes against the all-encompassing force of it. There’s a quick peck to his lips before Pat rolls off of him, his soft dick slipping from Brian's hole.
Ough, Brian groans at the foreign feeling of warm come oozing from his asshole, dripping down his butt crack.
Pat rises to a sit beside him, and Brian blinks his eyes open to watch as Pat methodically undoes the knots in the rope binding his arms. They both stay silent for a time, each content to catch their breath in the pleasant afterglow.
The ropes come away easily, and Pat runs the pad of a finger down the peaks and valleys of the indentations in Brian's arm. “Beautiful,” he whispers, enclosing Brian's whole forearm in his huge hands, massaging some feeling back into it. “Hurt at all?” Pat asks, placing Brian's first arm down beside him and moving to massage the second.
“Don't think so,” Brian answers, wiggling his fingers. “A little numb, maybe, but good.”
“Good,” Pat repeats, smiling down at him easily. He picks up his phone from somewhere and glances at the lock screen—Brian catches a glimpse of a grey and white one-eyed cat as Pat drops it onto the bed. “We've got about 45 minutes left, if you want,” Pat announces. “We can shower together if you'd like, or—”
“Yes please,” Brian interjects, biting his lip quickly as he realises quite how eager that sounded. “I… would like.”
Pat’s grin widens, and he takes Brian's hands, pulling him into a sitting position. “I was hoping you'd say that,” he murmurs, rocking forward to smack a kiss against Brian's lips before hopping off the bed. “Wait here, I’ll get it nice ‘n’ steamy.”
Brian’s gaze drifts down to Pat’s crotch, marvelling that even soft, Pat has the biggest cock he's ever seen. It swings with the momentum as Pat spins in place, performatively popping his ass to the side with a laugh as he saunters towards the bathroom.
Pat told him to wait, but Brian's never been known for his patience, and considering he only has limited time left to appreciate this man; he's going to make the most of it. He hops up off the bed with the grace of a dancer, before quickly crumpling in on himself as moving reminds him of the gaping hole Pat’s monster cock left in its wake. “Oww,” he groans, reaching behind himself to feel around the sore rim of his butthole, slick and puffy under his touch.
Pat's head pops back through the door frame, and he widens his eyes sympathetically. “I told you to stay still,” he murmurs gently, only needing to take a couple of strides with his long-ass legs to reach Brian, cupping his face in both hands when he gets there. “I was gonna carry you, dummy.” Pat waits a beat, then steps back a little, “Sorry, that was unprofessional.”
“I don't mind,” Brian whispers immediately, resting his hands on Pat’s waist, pulling their bodies together so Pat's soft cock fits into the groove of his thigh. He casts his eyes down as he adds quietly, “I'd rather you were real than professional.”
Pat takes a sharp breath in, and Brian bites his lip. He probably shouldn't have said that; Jonah’s paying for Pat's services as a sex worker, not a boyfriend. Brian has a boyfriend, and he's perfect, this is just sex.
“Sorry, made it weird,” Brian says faux-cheerily, suppressing his wince as he spins away from Pat and saunters into the bathroom, hoping to whoever's listening that Pat will follow him.
Thankfully, a few moments later, just as Brian is stepping into the hot stream, Pat’s voice echoes around the bathroom. “Bet I can make it weirder,” he laughs, barrelling into the room and tackling Brian against the cold wall, making him squeal, “Want me to suck my come out of your asshole?”
Brian's response is incredulous, “You like that?”
“Oh, I like many things, baby,” Pat answers in a sultry little voice, right up against the shell of Brian's ear, sending a shiver shooting down his spine. “So whaddya say?”
“I-if you're offering,” Brian stammers, and Pat's face erupts into a grin.
Brian finds himself spun around. He hears Pat’s knees hit the porcelain, and feels long fingers spreading his butt cheeks before a wide wet tongue licks right up the centre of him, no hesitation.
“O-oh,” Brian gasps, leaning heavily on the wall as Pat’s experienced tongue probes at his tight little hole. He's had sex before, he's been fucked before, but he's never had a tongue in his asshole before; this is a first. “Feels weird—” he admits quietly.
Pat chuckles beneath him. “Just you wait,” he murmurs, spreading Brian wide, pressing his lips in a tight seal around Brian's pucker as he sucks. Brian wants to cry at the feeling; come shlorping out of his body and onto Pat's tongue.
“Oh, thank you,” Brian moans, dropping his head between his outstretched arms. Pat spits out his mouthful between Brian's feet, and Brian watches it sluice down the drain.
“You're welcome, baby,” Pat murmurs, kissing the globe of Brian's right cheek, “first time you had your ass ate, huh?” he adds conversationally, rising to his feet and looping his arms around Brian's waist with a chuckle.
“Was it that obvious?” Brian murmurs, embarrassed.
Pat’s hand slides down to Brian's bulge, cupping it easily. “Most people don't get a semi from ten seconds of ass eating,” Pat says in his ear, “‘Specially not when they've just come. It's hot, though; flattering.”
Brian curls his hand around Pat’s on his cock, encouraging Pat to grasp him properly as he guides Pat's hand in a stroking motion, moaning as his sensitive cock grows harder under their joint ministrations.
“It won't take long,” Brian promises, conscious that his time is running out, adding a weak “please,” as he drops his head back on Pat's shoulder, fucking his hips into Pat's capable grip.
“Really desperate, huh?” Pat chides, taking over the stroking in earnest, and Brian moans loud, the sound echoing off the tiles.
“M-make fun of my sm-small cock,” Brian manages to gasp, screwing his eyes shut as Pat twists his palm around the head.
“Barely even a cock,” Pat sneers without missing a beat, pressing his thumb on the head, squashing it down until it's practically flush with his body. “I've met trans guys with bigger cocks than this pathetic little nub.”
“I know,” Brian moans, rocking himself into Pat's hand, “it's useless—should just lock it up and th-throw away the key.”
“I could do that,” Pat says suddenly, “if I'm going to see you again—”
Brian feels that familiar tug behind his balls, and before he can do anything to stop it he's spilling his second load of the night into Pat's tight grip, a choked-off moan falling from his slack lips. He doesn't know if it was the promise of chastity or the fact that Pat wants to see him again that tipped him over the edge, but fuck, he's in it now.
It takes him a while to get his breath back, his second orgasm taking an unexpected toll on his body, and when he finally blinks his eyes back open Pat is gently lathering Brian's body with hotel body wash.
“Got you with that one, huh?” Pat says cheerily as Brian groggily lifts his head from Pat's shoulder.
“Would you really?” Brian asks, turning his head to meet Pat's eyes.
“Sure,” Pat shrugs, gently guiding Brian under the shower spray to wash the suds away. “I'd need a deposit to cover the possibility of you running off with my cock cage, locked up forever,” he says with a smile, “but sure, I'd love to see you again.”
Brian thinks briefly of Jonah, of this one-time gift his boyfriend got him, of the fact that he loves Jonah and Jonah loves him, before pushing all of that to the back of his mind.
“Sure,” Brian parrots, smiling Pat's infectious smile right back at him.
They quickly finish up their shower, and Brian bounds eagerly back to the bed, flopping spread-eagle back onto it as Pat wanders back into the room, hoisting his bag onto the end of the bed and rummaging through it. He holds up three cages, one comprised of metal bars, one translucent plastic, and one— practically just a flat circle.
Pat eyes his choices, holding each of them up beside Brian's cock in turn. Lifting Brian's dick critically with his thumb and forefinger, he slides the metal cage easily over Brian's length. “Way too big,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and Brian feels hot shame flood his face. He’s sure Pat could have determined that without the practical test, which makes the fact that he did it all the more humiliating. “Your tiny little cock could easily get hard in here,” Pat continues, “jerk off through the bars like a fucking gremlin—absolutely not.” He takes the metal cage back and tosses it haphazardly into his bag.
He holds up the tiny circular disc cage next, but quickly dismisses it with a murmured, “Too advanced.” The translucent plastic cage, however, fits perfectly snug around Brian's soft dick, with little to no room for Brian to get hard inside it. “Juuuust right,” Pat says with a cruel little laugh, removing the cage to slide the locking ring down his short length, forcing his balls through the small gap to keep the cage held in place. Brian's dick is stirring with interest again when Pat finally gets around to shoving it in the cage for the final time.
“Ah, ah-ah,” Pat chastises, taking a key and locking the sheath into place, patting the plastic nub that used to be Brian's cock with a snarky look in his eyes. “This thing’s only good for pissin’ now,” Pat says confidently, thumbing the little open slit at the head with glee.
They discuss deposits and prices as they each get back into their clothes, Brian thrilling at zipping up his jeans over the chastity cage. Brian venmos Pat the deposit money and they set a date a week from now, plenty of time for Brian to learn the trials and tribulations of life in chastity.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Brian feels a little bit sheepish as he creeps back into the apartment at 1:30am, the cock cage a constant reminder of Pat; tangible proof that he’s going to see him again. He toes off his shoes and navigates through the maze of their small apartment in the dark until he reaches the bedroom. He’s quiet as a mouse as he opens the door, but of course, Jonah is awake, noodling on his phone, waiting for him.
“Hi, baby,” Jonah says cheerily, putting his phone down on the bedside table with a yawn, “how did it go?”
Brian huffs an embarrassed chuckle, “You want to know?” he asks as he makes his way into the bedroom, flopping down onto his side of the bed with a huff.
“Yeah,” Jonah answers, rolling onto his side to cup Brian's face in his hand and drop a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. “Let me live vicariously through you, tell me all about what it’s like to want sex.”
So Brian does, telling Jonah every aspect of the night in excruciating detail, up until—
“Yeah, he made me come a second time in the shower, fuck, it was so hot,” Brian reminisces dreamily, and Jonah yawns in response, making Brian yawn in kind.
“M’glad you had a nice time,” Jonah mumbles, settling into his sleep position and closing his eyes with another yawn, “g’night, baby.”
Brian bites his lip guiltily as Jonah’s gentle snores fill the room, and Brian rolls off the bed to shimmy out of his jeans, the chastity device that he didn’t mention weighing heavy on his mind and his cock.
He’ll tell Jonah—he will.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Except he keeps—not.
By the morning Jonah is his usual self, getting up early to head to the studio, waking Brian with a kiss and a whispered work calls, see you later, leaving Brian to fully awaken to the memory of the night before, his cock valiantly trying to harden inside the plastic shell it’s trapped in.
When Jonah gets home in the late afternoon, they talk about the dinner Brian is cooking and the songs Jonah worked on today.
As they tumble into bed, they exchange a few tight-lipped kisses before Jonah drops into a deep sleep, leaving Brian and his sad little cock awake and aching.
Rinse. Repeat.
He wants to tell him. Jonah would be fine with it; he started this for christ’s sake. But something in the back of Brian's mind keeps pushing back on the idea. Whenever he opens his mouth to tell Jonah that he’s seeing Pat again, a flutter of nervous butterflies erupt in his chest, a reminder of the way Pat made him feel. It’s stupid; the guy’s an escort, and has no emotional stakes in this game, but— well, Brian— Brian loves too much, too easily. He doesn't love Pat, god, but— it feels like there’s more to it than just lust. And so he keeps not telling Jonah. And he keeps living in a self-made den of guilt and shame and embarrassment.
And then a week has flown by, and his mouth is making up some lie about where he’s going, and he’s telling Jonah not to wait up. His boyfriend smiles and waves him off, like Brian’s not—like he’s not going out to cheat on his perfect boyfriend—the best thing in his life—and then, he’s gone.