Archive of Our Own

Jonny's still not settled out from the shock of the nominations when it's time for the boys to be home. "Are we telling them?" he asks Gerry, pulling on a clean pair of khakis. "When they get here? Or over dinner?" He starts to button them, realizes he's missed one and has to redo it. "We did decide to go out to dinner. Didn't we?"

"Yes, we're telling them. Don't want them to find out some other way." Gerry pulls on a new shirt and buttons it up. "Could build up to it, and, yes, dinner out. We're celebrating."

"Okay. They wouldn't've found out. Who talks about it at school?" Jonny looks up, thinks he hears a door opening downstairs. "That's them." He grins. "Should we be cruel, make them do their homework first?"

"Da." Sean's voice echoes up the stairs. "Me and Simon are home. You guys here?"

"We're upstairs," Gerry replies, then turns back to Jonny. "Before dinner? Yeah. Once we're home, they'll be in no mood to do it. And, plus, we're mean daddies."

It sounds like a herd coming up the stairs, but it's just twins and soon Sean and Simon are at the bedroom door, Simon skidding in first. "Hi, Da. Dad. We need permission ..."

"For a field trip," Sean says, finishing his brother's sentence. "Out to Warwick Castle."

Jonny grins. "Other than needing, how was your day? Homework?"

"Paper to finish up," Simon says. "You can proof, Da? And there's a little bit of math, but not much."

"'Course." Gerry grins. He musses Simon's hair. "Let me guess. Trip tomorrow and you just remembered?"

Simon blushes, a trait he picked up from Jonny, one his brother doesn't seem to share. "Yessir," he mumbles.

"Didn't forget. Not the trip," Sean says.

"No, you just forgot to get your parents to sign the forms." Jonny holds out his hand. "C'mon, give it over. Let me see if I'm going to let you go."

"What? You wouldn't stop?" Simon's protesting even as Sean shrugs his satchel off his arm and pulls out the papers, passing them over.

"Saying that it's not a sure thing." Gerry winks at him. "Have to make sure that it's all in order."

Unfolding the papers, Jonny has to suppress the urge to laugh. There's little today he wouldn't grant his sons. But they don't need to know that. "You have to be at school at 6 a.m. Lucky me gets to wake up earlier than usual."

"You're always up early, Da." Simon's leaning into Gerry's arm even as he talks. "And we'll set our alarms. Promise not to make you wake us up."

"Like that'll happen," Gerry mutters. He walks over to Jonny and looks at the papers. "Not too bad. Suppose you two'll want extra snacks in your lunches."

"Especially if we're going out tonight," Jonny says, flipping over the papers. Standard permission form, health certificate. "Suppose they could bring home leftovers for tomorrow's lunch. That'd let 'em sleep an extra 15 minutes."

Sean's the first to pick up on it. "We're going out?" he asks as his brother moves back to the door, leans into the jamb. He whispers to Simon. "It's not some anniversary, is it?"

Simon shrugs. "Not that I remember."

"Yeah, leftovers sound good." Gerry looks to the twins. "Your father's up for two Oscars."

Jonny looks at Gerry. "I thought. What about dinner?"

"Uh." Gerry attempts to look innocent. "It slipped out?"

"Oh, right." Jonny swats Gerry on the arm.

"You what, Da?" Sean asks. "Oscars?"

"Yeah, Sean, Academy Awards," Simon says, nudging his brother. "That's great, Da. For the one you wrote."

Jonny nods. He turns to the dresser and grabs a pen, signs the permission forms and passes them back. "Trip's a go. Homework, then we go to dinner, celebrate proper."

"We couldn't get a homework pass tonight?" Sean takes the papers and passes them to Simon. "Tuck 'em in the bag, bro." He moves over to Jonny's side, wrapping his arms around his father's waist in a hug. "Congratulations, Da. You'll win."

Simon's doing his brother's bidding and then he's hugging Jonny, too. "Sure you will."

Jonny smiles, glances over at Gerry. "Think we could get them Academy membership? That'd double the votes I'm gonna get."

"Hush, you." Gerry blows a kiss at Jonny. "I have every confidence in you, and when you win, you'll be able to say that your darling twin sons do their homework every night." He looks pointedly at Sean and Simon. "Right?"

They both look chagrined. "Yes, sir," they say together, slowly untwining from Jonny's body. "Homework."

"It's not that painful, Sean," Jonny says. "Go to your room, get started. I'll be there in a few minutes to look over the paper." As the boys retreat down the hall, he turns to Gerry. "I'm glad you have confidence, luv," he murmurs. "Your boy's lacking it in abundance."

"Good." Gerry wraps himself around Jonny and kisses his neck. "Then I'll just fuck the confidence into you. Hard and fast and making you scream until you believe that you're perfect."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful. Shame we have to wait till later. Boys home." Jonny returns the kiss, Gerry's cheek and then his mouth. "The minute they leave in the morning, though, Master can have his slave all day. Field trip has them gone till nearly 8 tomorrow night."

Gerry pulls slightly away and grins. "Yeah, master saw. Fucking fantastic. Going to fuck my boy everywhere until he screams and begs." He leans forward and kisses Jonny hard.

"Good. Boy will be hard all night just thinking about it." He barely gets the words out before Gerry's kissing him and Jonny's hands clutch at his husband's waist. Tomorrow's going to be damned great.

Good boy. Hard all night, and so Gerry can roll him over and fuck him and then sleep some more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a touch of arguing, they end up at the Thai place down the block from the house. The boys are getting experimental enough to handle the spices -- they've practically grown up in the restaurant -- and the adults have always loved it, the Orchid becoming their second home at times. They share appetizers -- spring rolls and satay, double plates of each -- and then swap out currys and pads.

"Sean, quit dripping sauce.There's no race to finish," Jonny says, "and if you want more, we can order it." He turns to Gerry. "Agent wants to set up PR schedule. Apparently I have to sell myself. I hate doing that."

Gerry hands Sean a stack of napkins. "You do? Wow. Married for thirteen years and I never knew." He coughs. Okay, we're doing a selling fantasy as soon as possible. "New York and LA?"

"Smart arse." There's the unmistakable urge to kick the hell out of Gerry under the table, but Jonny holds back and just nudges him with his knee. "Yeah, New York and LA, maybe more."

"We get to go?" Sean wipes his mouth and then manages to get a napkin under the spring roll before it coats the table with orange-red sauce. He passes off half of it to Simon. "Or you leaving us with Julie?"

"Uh." Jonny looks at Gerry again. "What do you think? Can we take 'em out of school?"

Gerry runs his foot up Jonny's leg. "We could. Does it coincide with break?"

"Not sure. I'll have to check the boys' schedule," Jonny says. He's quickly interrupted by his son.

"There's a break in March, Da," Simon says, "and headmaster will let us out for instructive travel."

"Instructive travel?" Jonny picks at his curry. "So if I explain to Mr. Baines that this is a glorified field trip, you could get excused?"

"Yeah," Sean says, smiling. "He'd let us off."

"We'd have to write it up, though," Simon adds, nudging his brother's elbow. "Or do some sort of presentation."

Gerry snickers. "So, boys, how would you spin this? Exploring America's hotel rooms while your father overcaffeinates himself?"

Jonny laughs, hard enough to need to get a drink of water.

"That could work into a science project, Simon," Sean says, stuffing the last of the spring roll into his mouth. "What you think?"

"It could. Mr. O'Malley might accept it." It's obvious Simon's brain is already working through the project's parameters. "We could maybe take his blood pressure every day and --"

"Whoa, wait," Jonny says. "I'm not an experiment. Gerry, tell our sons I'm not to be poked and prodded and--" He suddenly shuts up.

Good slut, learning not to dig his own grave. Gerry smirk is so wide his cheeks hurt. "Oh, I dunno, Teak. It's in the interest of science."

"I'm not going to win this argument, am I?" Jonny looks up from where he's been studying his curry, shakes his head at the grin on Gerry's face. "Hmm, no. I'm a goner."

Sean leans over and whispers to Simon. "Way to go, bro. Double-team works every time."

"Mmhmm. The effects of stress on the human male." Gerry leans in close to Jonny's ear. "Or we could leave the kids with Julie and I can fuck it out of you."

Jonny squirms. He was already hard. That just puts a sharper edge on it. "Child welfare would probably get us if we left the boys sitting here and dashed off to the loo."

"But they wouldn't if you go off right now and wank in there for me." Gerry looks pointedly around the room. "Couple of people seem to be wanting autographs. You go to the loo, give them time to approach you."

"I seriously doubt they want mine, Mr. Bond." Jonny grins and scoots back from the table. "But that's not a bad idea. Back in a minute, boys. Be good and finish up."

"Yes, Daddy," the boys say in chorus.

"I don't know. You're the one who's up for the Oscars."

"And still a relative unknown," Jonny says over his shoulder as he walks toward the back of the restaurant.

Gerry shakes his head after him and then turns to Sean and Simon. "Boys, your father is a compulsive liar. Let that be a lesson for you."

"Huh?" Simon looks puzzled. " 'Cause he said he's an unknown?"

"Yeah. Because he's not and he never was." Gerry looks stern.

"Da has inferior complex." Sean wipes the dripping sauce from his chin. "He's wonderful but he doesn't know it."

"Ah." Simon smiles. "Da's perfect for us."

"Thank you." It's so nice when his sons humour him. "Your father is the most wonderful man in the world."

"That why you fell in love in him?" Simon picks through his curry, separating out the vegetables he doesn't like and shoving them to the side of the plate. "Did you love him always, like when you first saw him?"

Uh. Okay, right there, Gerry, is why you shouldn't go off on how great Jonny is. Kids start asking questions. "It wasn't love at first sight." Gerry takes a bite of his dinner and swallows. "But I didn't hate him. Haven't we been over this?"

"No," Simon says. He looks at Sean. "We haven't, have we?"

"Nah. Daddy always changes the subject when we ask about him and Da." Sean reaches over and pulls another skewer of satay to his plate.

Smart Jonny. "Well, uh," Gerry clears his throat. "I met him on set first day of filming and he looked very," sexy. fuckable., "rumpled and cute. And then we went to dinner," and a week later, we had sex, "and we started dating."

"And then it was me falling head over heels in love with your father," Jonny says, leaning over Gerry's shoulder. "Haven't stopped either." He gives him a quick kiss and whispers against his ear. "Details when we get home?"

Both the boys make scrunchy faces and look at each other. "Ew, they're getting gooey."

Ah, there's the love of his life. Gerry grins and kisses Jonny's cheek. "Yeah," he murmurs. He tilts his head further back and tries to make a play for Jonny's earlobe, hoping the boys don't notice.

Jonny laughs at how it tickles when Gerry tongues his earlobe. "Everyone finished enough to get the rest boxed and head home?" He glances at the boys. "I know two who need to be bathed and in bed in an hour."

"Daddy!" Sean's pout rivals his father's.

"Don't you dare, young man." Jonny glares, best he can with a slight grin. "I know that pout. It doesn't work."

"It's a special night, Da," Simon says, folding his napkin beside his plate. "We should stay up late, celebrate and you could write us out of school tomorrow."

"You'd miss your field trip." Jonny grins. And I'd miss my day of torture.

Simon frowns. "Oh, right."

"Always a catch, isn't there." Gerry tries to sound sympathetic, but he doesn't think it works.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's a fight getting the boys settled. They're determined they can stay up, and it takes both Jonny and Gerry to convince them otherwise. Gerry's stern glare. Jonny's promise of a popcorn party Friday. Nothing like tag-team parenting. Jonny steps out into the hallway, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him, and leans against Gerry's shoulder. "Tell me again why we had children?"

"So we could perfect our good cop/bad cop technique." Gerry brushes his lips against Jonny's forehead. "And 'cause we love them."

Jonny wraps his arm around Gerry's waist. "Yeah. Definitely love 'em. And you." He chuckles. "Bad cop want to corrupt the good cop?"

"Always." Gerry slides his hand down Jonny's back and pinches his arse. "Bend him over the interrogation table, cuff him, and slam him into things while he fucks him."

He tries hard not to yelp, knowing they're just outside the boys' room and knowing they aren't asleep yet, so it's bitten off. "He needs a good slam-down. Uppity, brash young cop thinks he knows everything."

"Mmhmm. Coming up too fast. Thinks he's the new hotshot. Needs an older one to take him in line, show him how it works." Gerry licks around Jonny's ear and then blows against it. "My slave eager?"

"Slave passed eager a few hours ago, while he was wanking in the loo." Jonny squirms and steps away, sinks to his hands and knees. "Crawl to the bedroom for you, Master?"

Gerry shakes his head. "Walk. Want to see my slave shake his cute arse."

"You are absolutely no fun." Jonny pushes himself back up onto his feet and exaggerates a wiggle as he walks down the hall to their bedroom. "Never get to crawl anymore."

"I'm not?" He doesn't? Gerry hadn't noticed that. Oh well. He'll just have to remedy that tomorrow. Make his boy crawl across the room while he's wearing nipple clamps with weights that hang down to brush against the floor. And a plug and a gates and make him crawl back and forth and back and forth until Jonny can't take it any more. "I'll fix that."

Jonny looks back over his shoulder as he reaches their door. "Boy just stepped into it, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Got himself booked for a whole lot of torture." Gerry grins. "Boy should expect bruising parts of his body tomorrow, like his knees and palms."

"Boy isn't at all upset about that." Jonny pulls his shirt from his khakis. In fact, the boy's damned happy about the prospect of torture. "Want him to strip? Or did Master have something else in mind for tonight?"

"I want to cut your clothes off of you." Gerry goes over to the dresser and pulls out some undershirts. He tosses one to Jonny and then goes looking for old boxers.

"Okay." Jonny grabs the t-shirt and drapes it over his shoulder as he works on getting out of the pants. "Would rather not ruin these clothes. Just bought 'em." He glances up. "Old jeans and such are in the bottom drawer if you want."

"Thanks. Forgot." Jonny usually organizes the drawers. Jonny's good at things like that. He pulls out an old pair of jeans, worn through at the knees, and tosses them to Jonny. "Going to fuck you while you look scruffy."

The jeans fall to the floor at Jonny's feet. He's too busy getting out of good clothes, cock hard at the bit of roleplay they're sliding into. "Five more seconds and boy will be in fuckable clothes." He manages it, too, hurriedly jerking the t-shirt over his head as his button-down comes off and then bending down and slipping the jeans up, barely buttoning them.

"Good boy." Gerry strips down quickly. "Going to fuck you hard, so you're going to have to beg for it."

"Fuck, yes, please." Jonny turns on hearing the words. Beg. Yes. "Master, boy wants fucked so hard he forgets everything except the feel of Master's cock inside him."

That's not terribly unusual. Jonny really is a greedy slut. Gerry smirks and snaps his fingers. "Crawl over here."

"Now he wants crawling," Jonny mutters under his breath, shaking his head and dropping to his knees, hands flat. He crawls across the carpet, can't help but think he needs to shampoo it, and stops at Gerry's feet, head down and hair brushing against Gerry's leg.

"Good slave." Gerry rubs Jonny's head. "Now be a good boy and crawl to the corner and wait there while master gets the bed ready."

There's a definite smirk on Jonny's face, but he keeps this one to himself, turns and crawls to the corner, kneeling up and facing in. You just love this, stepping into his traps. Thirteen years and you're not the least bit tired of it. Oh, no, definitely not. He laces his hands behind his back and goes almost motionless. And you're a fuckin' Oscar nominee now. Shite.

"Good boy." Gerry watches Jonny crawl, then goes over to the bed. He gets the cuffs set up, with enough slack that Jonny can squirm. That's always gorgeous to watch. He pulls the blankets down and pools them around the bottom of the bed. He wants Jonny to struggle a little and he wants room to move. He's going to torture his slave. "Okay, crawl back here now."

"Yes, Master." Jonny turns around, smiles at the way the bed's been turned down, the sight of cuffs. It's going to be a fun night. He crawls to the bed's edge, rubs his head against Gerry's leg. "Slave wants to please Master."

"He's going to." Gerry scratches behind Jonny's ear. "My cute little Oscar nominee. I'm going to hurt you so nice. Up on the bed."

Jonny climbs onto the bed. "Up or down, sir?"

"Up." He wants to play.

He eases into place, back against the bottom sheet, hands stretched out toward the cuffs. The jeans are tight, but not confining, comfortable, and the t-shirt's ripped in all the right spots. Jonny takes a deep breath, lets it out, centers himself, long ago having given up the need to zone out completely.

"Perfect." Gerry runs his fingers down Jonny's shirt. "This needs to come off." He fastens the cuffs and checks them, then gets the sewing scissors out from under the bed. "Don't move."

"Like he would. Has learned that lesson." Jonny goes very still. "What happened to the dagger that was under there?"

"It's still there. But this needs a gentler touch." Gerry slides his hand under Jonny's shirt and bunches it up a little. "Hold your breath."

Jonny sucks in a deep breath, holds it, counts to 60 very slowly. Much as he'd like to be cut, he's not going to be stupid. Not tonight.

"Good boy." Gerry cuts the shirt off in four long snips, then he puts the scissors down and rips the rest of it. "You can breathe now."

Breathing out, Jonny looks down, grins. "Nice cuts, sir. Next time, feel free to nick the flesh a bit."

"With scissors?" Gerry slides his hands under the shirt and pushes the fabric to the side. "No, love. I'm going to tie you down and cut my name into your thigh again. Much prettier."

"Fucksick, yeah." Gerry's fingers tickle and Jonny can't help but chuckle, squirm. "Love that, Master, the feel of your hand, the thought of being tied down and, oh yeah, cutting. Don't think I'll ever lose the desire for that."

"Well, that's a relief." Gerry bends down and scrapes his teeth across Jonny's nipple, then pulls back. "Because I'm thinking about writing sonnets on how you look while bleeding for me."

"Sonnets? Oh, that'll be good for the image." Jonny winces at the connection of teeth to flesh. "That's perfect," he mutters. "More?"

"Image? What image?" Gerry grins. He sits up and puts his hands at the waistband for the jeans. "Go on, keep digging, dear."

"Image. Suave. Sophisticated. Isn't that what you're supposed to be?" Jonny pushes up in anticipation.

"No, that's the other Scotsman. You might have met him." Gerry's voice drops a register. "Bond." He slips his hand under the jeans and grasps Jonny's cock. "James Bond."

"Ah, fuck." Jonny moans, Gerry's fingers touching the exact spot that's aching. "Love being married to 007. Such a bizarre thrill. Not that I don't prefer the original Glaswegian. He's damned sexy. Just Bond looks better in a tux than Butler. Butler's the leather type."

Gerry isn't exactly sure he follows the line of thought, but he gets the idea. "Leather and tux. Damn sexy."

"Prefer the leather. And that's something we haven't done in awhile." Jonny grins. "Gloves."

"Mmm. Gloves. Good idea." Gerry strokes Jonny's cock. "Tease and torture."

"Hmmm." It's almost a purr, Jonny tilting his head back, pushing up into Gerry's touch. "Teasing torture's a perfect way to spend the night."

"Yeah, it is." Gerry gets Jonny's jeans unfastened and pulls them down to around Jonny's knees. Now he really can't move. "Clamps first or blindfold, my darling director?"

"Blindfold," Jonny says quickly. He tries to move. No luck. At least not any movement that would help. Damn, that's better than being tied down. "Makes the clamps that much better."

"Kay." Gerry gets the blindfold and drapes it over Jonny's neck. "Beg."

"Pretty please." Jonny pouts. "Blindfold. Master. Please?"

"Yes, dear. Your wish is my command." Gerry wraps the blindfold around Jonny's eyes and ties it. Then he tweaks Jonny's nipples.

"Ouch. Fuck. Yeah, blindfold makes it better. Totally, Master." Jonny digs his shoulders back against the pillow at a second tweak. "Love it."

"Good boy." Gerry rummages underneath the bed and pulls out two nipple clamps that are connected by a chain, and he fastens them quickly to Jonny's nipples. He tests the chain. "How does that feel?"

"Hurts like hell. Feels good." Another thing Jonny's gotten used to over the years. "Could be a tad tighter, Master, if you like."

"Uh uh uh. What have I told you about telling master what to do?"

"Uh, not to do it?" Jonny can't help but smile. "Thought maybe Oscar nomination would get the boy a bit of leeway."

"It gets you all the lee way in the world." Gerry twists the chain around his finger and tugs. "That better?"

"Better's a good word for it." Jonny's voice breaks a little. He's slipping fast, sinking himself deeper by the second into Gerry's touches, twists.

"Mm. Good." Gerry moves up and kisses Jonny's lips lightly. "Think you're going to win?"

"No. Just an honour to be nominated and all that." Jonny pushes up much as he can, kisses Gerry back. "Definitely not director. Don't even know who else is nominated, but I can bet newbie won't get it."

Jonny's probably right, but Gerry's always been an optimist. "You'll get one, love. And then I'll brutally sodomize you with the statuette."

That thought sends a shiver down Jonny's spine. "Master, if your boy actually wins an Oscar, he'll not get through his thank-you speech for having that image in his head."

"Oh." Gerry frowns. "Can't have that." He runs his fingers across Jonny's lips. Nice and soft. "Would it help if you weren't wearing a plug?"

"What? Gonna have your boy wearing a plug to the Oscars?" Jonny moans. "That's just cruel."

"No, no. Not have you wear one." Gerry grins. "I'm a tease."

"Yes, you are, Master. And slave loves ever minute of it. He's not complaining at all, plug or not." Jonny bites at the corner of his lip, thinks for a minute. "Plug might not be a bad idea. Might keep the boy from going insane while he's sitting at the awards."

Gerry shakes his head and gives the chain another yank. "I'll be holding your hand and you can squeeze it all you like, as hard you like. No plug."

Jonny yelps, the sudden pain shooting through his chest. "Master's hand may be permanently imprinted." He breathes out, then in, and calms himself a bit. "Won't the boys be between us?"

"And that's a reason to have you wearing a plug?" Gerry slides his finger lower. "They'd probably get antsy, sitting for that long. I bet there's a place where the nominees can drop of their kids so the kids can have fun while watching."

"Guess so." Jonny'd like to have the boys there with them, but he knows 12-year-olds aren't the most patient creatures. He glances down, watches Gerry's finger slide over his stomach. "No, no reason to wear one."

"Unless you really, really want one." Gerry kisses Jonny's stomach. "Your day, your night. Everyone's going to love you."

There's an uncontrollable giggle, Jonny drawing his stomach in. "Oh, sure. He'll make an adorable loser."

Gerry tsks. "He'll make an adorable winner."

"Confident husband. That's a good thing. Don't even know who he's up against." Jonny tugs at his bindings. "Fuck him. Please?"

"I'll check tomorrow, but it doesn't matter. My slave is the best." Gerry slides his hands up Jonny's arms. "Course I'll fuck you. How do you want it?"

"Like this, where your boy can't touch you, just has to take what you're giving. He needs to be dominated, fucked into the mattress. Please."

"Mm. I can do that." Gerry pulls back and looks Jonny over. Sexy. His boy has always looked his best when he's stretched out on the bed like this. "Delicious. All spread out for me to take. Want to be turned over?"

Jonny ponders the option, wondering how badly it'll twist his arms up, figures it's worth the pain to get the fuck. "Sure. Sounds even better, being fucked face-first into the mattress."

That sounds better to Gerry as well. He unchains Jonny's feet and wrists and then pushes him. "Over, dear."

Turning slowly, Jonny twists his wrists one over the other, crossing them into a comfortable position as he settles, head at the edge of the pillow, cock pressed into the sheet.

Gorgeous. Gerry touches Jonny between his shoulder-blades and slowly slides the tips of his fingers down Jonny's back, pressing ever so slightly into a tattoo, and then down over his arse. "Beautiful," he whispers.

It's too slow. Almost. Jonny pushes up off the bed into Gerry's touches. Even after all the years they've been together, he still blushes at his husband's compliments. The heat's absorbed into the pillow this time, though, along with the muffled slow moan.

Gerry smiles at the moan. Jonny's so perfect. There are times when he just wants to worship him, almost. He slides his fingers back up again, this time taking a more circuitous route. "Slave wants?"

"Slave wants," Jonny murmurs, "to be fucked, beaten, tortured with touches."

"I'm sure he does." Gerry pinches Jonny's arse. "And he deserves it all. He deserves all the pain in the world." Gerry blinks. "That came out wrong."

Jonny cranes his neck to twist up enough to look back over his shoulder. He grins. "No it didn't. It came out perfect, Pire. Boy deserves all the pain Master can give him."

"Mmhmm." Gerry pinches Jonny's arse again, this time much harder. "And all the pleasure master can, as well. Good thing it overlaps or my slave might never leave the bed."

"You think slave would complain?" Jonny wriggles, pushing his arse up. "Do that again. Please?"

"I think slave might after master handfed him too many times." Gerry repeats the pinch. "And there's only so many times you can have sex before your cock falls off."

"There is? We haven't reached it, obviously." Years of practice have allowed Jonny to carry on a conversation while Gerry's torturing him. His arse stings from the pinch, but it's nowhere not the complain level.

"No, but we might." Gerry reaches between Jonny's legs and plays with the skin right behind his balls. "And I'd want you to safeword then. But not before it."

Jonny tugs at the cuffs, pulling up and, for a second, away from Gerry's hand. Only a second, then he's pushing back into it. "That your cock or mine falling off?"

Gerry thinks for a moment and then presses his nails into Jonny's skin. "Probably mine. Hmm. I'll have to think that one over."

"Oh, fuck. Take your time." Jonny sucks in a breath. "And keep doing that. Damn."

Gerry keeps doing it. "Thing is," he muses, "I like my cock. And I've grown to appreciate your cock very much. Don't want either of them falling off." Gerry pauses. "Maybe I should stick you in a cockring. Just to make sure."

"Bloody brill, seeing as I like both our cocks, too." Jonny grinds down into the mattress. "Right now, mine's rather wedged in the bottom sheet, sir."

"As long as he doesn't poke holes in it, that's fine." Gerry reaches under Jonny's body and touches his cock. "Hmm. Maybe I should do something about this before I fuck him."

"Something like letting him come?" Jonny grins, knowing it's probably the wrong answer. "Or shoving it into a nice tight ring?"

"Hmm." Gerry pretends to think about it. "On the one hand, if I let him come, he'll be ever so sensitive when I fuck his brains out. On the other hand, he has been a very good boy..."

"He has been. Very good." Jonny's nodding. "He'll love everything Master wants to do."

"I know he will." Gerry strokes Jonny's cock. "And would my good boy want to wait, or want to have satisfaction right now and ache?"

"Oh, fuck, your boy hates making decisions." Jonny twists his head to lay the side of his face against the pillow. "Hmm. Wait. Please."

"Good boy." Gerry knew he'd choose that one. His boy is so adorably predictable. Gerry pulls his hand back. "Is my boy prepped?"

"Yes, Master. Boy's brain was actually working this morning and he remembered."

Gerry slaps Jonny's arse. "Impertinent slut." He slaps it again. "Eager slut."

Jonny wriggles, squirms, shoves his cock into the mattress. "Yes, Master. Totally eager. Impertinent, too, just the way Master loves."

"Mmhmm. Love it." Gerry pulls back and gets into position on top of Jonny. Then he thrusts inside.

"Bloodyfuckinghell." No matter how many times Gerry does that, how well Jonny is prepared for it, it takes him by surprise. In a damned good way. And he can't help but push back, not an easy thing with hands bound and body tight against the bed. "Love that."

And Jonny's always so tight and hot and fanfuckingtastic. Gerry doesn't know how he does it and he doesn't want it to stop. He shoves in harder and faster, fucking Jonny as fast as he can. He loves it like that and he knows Jonny does as well.

There's nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it, Gerry's thrusts harder by the second, Jonny being pushed deeper into the bed. And he loves it. Every minute of it. Doesn't want it to stop. Ever. "More, Master. Please. Your boy loves this."

"Know-know he does." Master loves it as well. Gerry closes his eyes tight as he comes. "Jonny!"

Jonny wants to scream, buries his face in the pillow to keep the sound muffled, not wanting to wake the boys more, the warmth filling his arse, marking him with intent and purpose. His. Always. It hadn't taken a piece of paper all those years ago to tell Jonny he belongs to Gerry, and the vows spoken before a priest hadn't made it any more real. No. Jonny had known the first time Gerry had come inside him like this, claimed him. Master's slave. Husband.