Chapter Three

They didn’t even made it inside Charlie’s flat before they started kissing, a clash of mouths and hands and teeth and tongues that felt almost overwhelming in its passion. When Charlie fumbled with his keys to try and open the front door, Leon splayed against him, mouth hot against his ear.

“Come on, Charlieboy, open up for Daddy.”

He swore and dropped his keys, diving for them with such speed that he almost made himself dizzy. When they finally got the door open, Leon waited for him to walk in first, to welcome him into Charlie’s home.

They stood like that, just for a fraction of a second, Charlie across the threshold, Leon outside, and beamed at each other.

This was happening.

This was really happening.

“Come in,” said Charlie, and Leon was suddenly there, walking him until his back hit the wall, Leon’s hand snaking up in time to prevent his head from knocking backwards. Leon’s arms bracketed him, and their eyes met, level.

“Where’re you at, Charlieboy? Red, yellow or green.”

“Green. I’m green, so for fuck’s sake, kiss me again.”

Charlie yanked at the collar of Leon’s shirt, tugging until the other man’s lips were millimetres away from his own.

“Come now,” said Leon, surprisingly immoveable. “You’ve got better manners than that.”

Fine, thought Charlie. That’s how you want it? He dropped all pretences, all walls, and met Leon’s gaze with all the longing and desire that had interwoven with each minute that he’d missed him. “Kiss me, Daddy? Please?”

Leon swore, and the gap between them diminished, lips claiming his with a kiss that made Charlie’s knees almost buckle beneath him. “My Charlieboy,” said Leon, the words forming against Charlie’s lips. “Mine.”

“Yours,” said Charlie, and it was true. He was Leon’s. He’d always been Leon’s, even when Leon had been lost to him.

The fingers cushioning his head intertwined themselves in his hair, and pulled. Not too hard, but sharply enough to make Charlie gasp.

“Get me rope, boy. Daddy wants to play.”

And Charlie was almost running to the drawer where he kept all the things that made him feel. Jute rope, coarse and harsh slipping through his fingers until he turned and called for Leon. “Daddy? Through here.”

Leon walked through, turning his head to take in the shelves that adorned the walls. Figurines, all lovingly painted, from various television shows and films. “My boy’s a nerd.”

“Are you really surprised?” asked Charlie, amusement lacing his voice.

“Not at all. Playthings for my plaything.” Leon smiled. “Sounds about right. Now, where’s the rope I asked for?”

Charlie offered it, and felt the urge to slip to his knees. He didn’t though, frozen there briefly, unsure of what to do.

“Hey,” Leon’s voice was gentle, concern adding a gruffness to it. “You okay there, Charlieboy?”

“I…I want to get on my knees for you, only we didn’t talk about that.”

Leon sat on the bed and patted the spot beside him. “Sit.”

Charlie sat.

“I would love to see you on your knees for me. We spoke in the car about clothing, so why don’t you get undressed for me, and I’ll get undressed for you. And once we’ve done that, you can decide if you want to kneel for me, or if you’d like to be in a different position whilst I tie you.”

It was nerve-wracking, getting undressed in front of Leon. Charlie had been topless since his surgery—there’d been a staff daytrip to Brighton and he’d been able to sunbathe without his previous feelings of dysphoria—but that he hadn’t slept with anyone.

They sat on the bed, facing each other, and slowly started undressing. Button by button, Charlie’s shirt came undone. Inch by inch, Leon slowly drew his top over his head. Until they were both there, looking at each other.

The scars that decorated each torso wasn’t quite a mirror, but they were familiar enough for Charlie to see his own journey in Leon’s body. Charlie had more hair on his chest, but Leon’s light dusting was a dusky brown, almost reddish. As if one, they reached out at the same time, tentative fingers touching, learning skin.

And then they were kissing again, softer, gentler, with a tenderness that held no less emotion. That held no less desperation for each.

Leon took the rope in his hands, and ran it between his fingers. Even the mere sound of it sent Charlie hurtling into subspace so fast he felt drunk.

His head dropped, and he sighed. Let the sound of the rope, and then the gentle touch of it, bury deep in his soul.

The mattress moved as Leon shifted, and then went to sit behind Charlie, bracketing his body. “I’m going to tie your wrist. Sound good?”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Charlie.

The rope wound round his wrist, tying off, and then Leon moved Charlie’s body backwards until he let everything go, and put his whole self in Leon’s hands. Puppeting his hand, Leon moved Charlie’s body around, urging him forward and then back in a rocking motion that lulled him deeper into subspace. And then, so quickly that Charlie registered it, he brought the tied wrist around so that Charlie was hugging himself, and roped round his waist and arm once…twice…

It was tight. Like a corset might feel. But the arm across Charlie’s chest meant that there was no rope against his scars, Leon ever mindful of the surgery they’d both experienced.

“Hey Charlieboy.” The words were whispered, a caress. “You’ve gone so deep for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Charlie, his mind a haze of pleasure.

Leon chuckled, and Charlie could swear he could feel it all the way down in his dick. He could feel it swelling, as if each touch of Leon’s was a finger, beckoning his arousal closer.

He’d been on T for a number of years, and what had been his clit was now a dick, small but perfectly his. He’d found that his orgasms had changed since being on T, less of a full body experience, more focused in right there. But today? Today his entire body was alive, humming with pleasure.

Awakened by Leon’s touch.

Leon brought the rope down to Charlie’s hips and paused. “I know we talked in the car about it, but just double checking…”

“Please, Daddy.” Charlie didn’t know if he’d ever sounded so desperate before. “Please rope me there.”

Leon pressed a kiss to Charlie’s cheek, “Okay Charlieboy.” And then his hands were moving, quick, fast, too fast for Charlie to fully work out what was happening, and after the first few moments he gave up and just gave over to the sensations.

Rope tight against his chest, against his hands, then round his hips, biting into his legs and his legs moving up and up and oh. Rope there.

He still wore the shorts he’d been wearing all day. There were still two layers of clothing between his dick and the rope, but Charlie felt it. He knew.

Leon moved it back and forth, back and forth. Brushing, teasing, not enough but almost too much all at once.

Charlie keened, desperate for more, and Leon’s laugh, low and thrilling, made him remember.

He didn’t get to come.

Not today, and maybe not tomorrow.

He was Daddy’s plaything, and Daddy just wanted to play with him, to truss him up.

“You’ve remembered, haven’t you?” said Leon in a tone of voice that might have been considered cruel if it hadn’t been just so damn right. “You’ve remembered what you wanted, what you asked for.”

Charlie swallowed, and let out a shuddery breath.

“Tell me, Charlieboy, tell me what you wanted.”

“Not to come.”

“And why didn’t you want to come, Charlieboy?”

There was a slight moment of panic, where Charlie grasped around for an answer that seemed to evade him, but Leon seemed to know exactly where his mind was, for he shushed him and smoothed the frown for Charlie’s forehead.

“It’s okay, Charlieboy, I know why you don’t want to come.”

“You do, Daddy?”

“Of course I do,” said Leon. “You don’t want to come, because you always want to be like this. Desperate for Daddy.” His hand followed the path of the rope, pausing just before his fingers brushed the front of Charlie’s shorts.

Charlie moaned and tried to thrust upwards, to get the contact he yearned for, and Leon laughed, moving his fingers back.

“Oh my sweet boy, I love how you are, like this.” He rested his chin on Charlie’s shoulder and each following word sent tingles through Charlie’s ear. “Do you remember how you were on the ward?”

Charlie bit his lip. Of course he remembered. They’d never so much as shook hands until the day of Leon’s discharge, but…

“Do you remember when I told you to touch yourself?”

Charlie’s hand was trembling now, fluttering by his shoulder, wrist caught in rope. “Yes, Daddy.” He whispered the words.

“And you sat across the room from me, and I watched those movements beneath the blanket, watched you bring yourself pleasure, watched you bring me pleasure. And then I said…?”

“You said stop,” said Charlie, feeling dizzy. The rope continued moving between his legs, brushing up against his hard dick through his shorts, making his head loll backwards.

Leon caught his head, and pulled him back until Charlie was slumped against him.

“You’re mine Charlieboy, all mine. Mine to bring to the brink of pleasure…” his hand finally finally brushed against Charlie’s dick, “and mine to ease down from there,” and the rope against him loosened.

All of a sudden Charlie found himself taking in great gulps of air, gasping out “Yellow,” and Leon immediately dropped everything and started loosening the ropes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tight with panic.

“Yes, Daddy, I just need you.” Charlie said, and the panic on Leon’s face abated and he smiled and leaned in and kissed Charlie.

“My sweet boy. You have me completely.”

And as the last swathes of rope fell away from Charlie, his arm and wrist free once more, Leon pulled him back against him and kissed him sweetly.

“All mine, darling boy.”

“And all mine, Daddy,” said Charlie.

Together at last.

The End