7. The Second Payment

7

THE SECOND PAYMENT

Wren didn't think he'd ever get used to this. His heart pounded as he turned to face Fang, feeling small and vulnerable as he pulled his shirt off.

"Such lovely nipples," Fang whispered, stalking closer.

He raked his gaze over Wren's face, his eyes and nose and mouth, lingering on Wren's lips as though he was trying to memorize them. He studied Wren's shoulders, his bare chest, his stomach bulging after their meal.

Wren's skin prickled under his examination. He tried to breathe slowly, tried not to move much at all, because he wasn't sure what Fang wanted.

"Don't stop there," Fang growled. "I want to see you naked."

Those words went straight between Wren's legs. He gasped helplessly, his hands shaking as he undid his pants, bending over to push them down his legs.

"Hold still."

Wren froze.

Fang circled him like a predator, his pupils dilating, his tongue flicking over his lips. He sank to a crouch behind Wren. When Wren peeked over his shoulder, he found Fang's face right behind his ass.

"Keep going," Fang growled. "Take off your socks and shoes."

Wren wobbled when he removed his shoe. Large hands came up to steady his hips, swathes of heat soaking through his briefs. He heard Fang's slow intake of breath.

And he realized that Fang was sniffing his ass.

Instead of freaking out, Wren grew wet between his cheeks.

"Fuck," Fang said. "I can smell how wet you're getting for me. Your slick, your precum. Getting your body ready for my touch."

Wren whimpered and shuddered. He toed off his other shoe and removed his socks, ever so aware of his briefs stretching across his ass.

When Wren was in nothing but his underwear, Fang groaned and said, "Take off your briefs."

Wren's face burned. He hooked his thumbs into his waistband and pushed. The cold air of the room rushed over his ass, between his cheeks. It curled around his balls and cock, cooling his heated flesh.

"That's it," Fang hissed. "Fuck. Just waiting for me."

He rocked back on his heels and licked his lips, his pupils blown. "Spread your legs."

Wren obeyed, but his briefs snagged against his thighs and kept him from parting them further. Fang caught the scrap of fabric and dragged it down the rest of the way. Wren had never had his clothes dragged off his body before. His precum shot everywhere; he cringed in embarrassment, except Fang only stared at the droplets and licked his lips.

"Keep going," Fang murmured.

Free of his constraints, Wren spread his legs wider and wider, until his balls were hanging in the air and his cock stood straight up, completely ready for Fang's examination.

"I want to touch you so badly," Fang murmured.

"W-why aren't you?" Wren's voice cracked.

"Saving the best for last. I want to touch you slowly. Run my hands over your arms and chest, roll your tight nipples between my fingers. I want to rub circles into your hips and hold you down, push open your legs. I want to stroke your puckered little hole with my thumb until you squirm and shudder, your hole puffy and slick with need, your cock dripping for me."

Wren whimpered. He needed something to hold onto; he needed to rub himself against Fang, if only to take the edge off his need.

Fang leaned in close, his hot breath skimming across Wren's hole. Wren jerked; his hole squeezed.

And Fang stood, crossing the room to take something out of a duffel bag.

He laid three things out on a towel. They were butt plugs, Wren realized. Different sizes, teardrop-shaped with a flared base.

"Pick one," Fang said. "You'll put it in your ass after you shower, and wear it for the rest of the night."

Wren throbbed. "You won't put it inside me yourself?"

Fang hummed. "Perhaps. I want you so desperate that you're clawing at the bed, your ass high, your legs spread. I want you writhing and dripping, your hole squeezing so emptily, waiting for my cock. And all you'll get is a plug to hold you open, to let you practice being stretched, until you can finally take my cock."

"I want your cock," Wren blurted, then flushed.

Fang growled. "Yes. I want you to need me so much that when I finally push my cock inside you, you'll come immediately, and come again."

Wren's slick dripped down his thighs. "W-will you put it inside me n-now?"

Fang's eyes flashed; he growled low in his throat. "Present for me, Birdie."

Oh, gods. Wren still wasn't used to Fang's attention there. He whimpered and reached back, grasping his cheeks to spread them apart. So his hole was in plain sight, wet and aching to be filled. "I n-need you in me. Now. Please."

Fang's breathing went uneven. He straightened and grabbed the smallest plug off the bed, slipping its pointed tip down Wren's crack. It was cool and hard, and it sank ever lower. Closer to his hole. Wren jerked and moaned.

"I picked this out for you," Fang growled. "Something small to start you off. We'll swap it for a bigger one when you're done with your shower. None of these are the size of my cock."

"W-wasn't I supposed to put it in after the shower?"

Fang flashed his teeth in a grin. "I changed my mind."

Wren's ass ached. He thrust his hips at Fang, face burning at how forward he was being. How naked he was, his intimate parts completely exposed. "Please, please."

Fang tapped the tip of the plug against Wren's hole, sending a burst of pleasure through him. His hole clenched.

"I need you to relax," Fang murmured. He stroked Wren's sensitive entrance with the plug. "It's going to push into you, rub against your prostate. You may come more than once."

"Please, please, please," Wren sobbed, his cock so hard that it hurt.

"All right." The plug nudged against his hole and eased it open. It was a small intrusion at first, slowly stretching him more the deeper it went.

"Feel it?"

Wren moaned, and moaned louder when the base of the plug pressed against his entrance. Was this how it felt to no longer be a virgin?

"Now, I'm going to move this," Fang growled. "It'll feel good." He began to slide the plug in and out in a toe-curling thrust. Wren bit his lip at the friction, the distinct feeling of being gently fucked. "You look good from here, Wren. Your pink hole opening and closing around this toy, trying to suck it down."

Wren hid his face in his hands, dripping. Except Fang angled the plug differently against Wren's inner walls, and on one of his thrusts, it hit something inside. Wren's entire body jerked.

"That's your prostate," Fang growled.

He held Wren's hip to anchor him in place, grinding the toy against that sensitive spot until Wren's thighs shook like leaves, and he couldn't think. Over and over, Fang massaged his prostate with the plug, until Wren dripped all over the floor and he writhed, words falling out of his mouth.

"More, more. I need more," Wren whimpered. "Fang, please."

Fang took Wren's hand, wrapping his fingers around the base of the plug. "There. Do it yourself."

Wren's face burned. He'd never even touched a plug before. He moved it experimentally inside him, but it didn't hit the right spot. "I can't—"

"Try harder."

But maybe Fang took pity on him, because he angled Wren's wrist the right way. And suddenly he was striking his prostate on every third thrust, his entire body trembling. Would it feel like this, when Fang was inside him?

Wren fucked himself harder. He pounded the toy inside like how he wished Fang would, and Fang sucked in a harsh breath.

"That's it. Push it into your greedy little hole," Fang rasped.

Wren crammed the plug all the way into himself, wriggling his hips, trying to get a better angle. He whined in frustration when he couldn't—until Fang caught his wrist and adjusted the angle. And suddenly the plug was slamming up against his prostate, sending an explosion of pleasure through his body, his balls pulling tight as cum shot out of him, all over the floor.

"Fuck. Yeah, that's it. That's how you make yourself come." Fang slid his arm around Wren's waist and caught him before he pitched forward. He pulled Wren back against the thick, solid line of his bulge. "Now, I want you in the shower."

Wren could hardly move; he felt so weak. But Fang guided him into the bathroom, running the shower. He reached between Wren's cheeks with his hot fingers, pulling out the plug with a soft pop.

Wren's hole already felt so used, and it was all because of the smallest toy. He flushed self-consciously.

Fang returned with another plug in hand—the next one up in size.

Their eyes met. Fang's mouth twitched upward. And Wren knew what was going to happen, suddenly.

"Step into the shower, Birdie."

Wren shuffled in, the amazing heat of the hot water soaking into his shoulders and back.

"Brace your hands against the wall. Feet apart."

Wren obeyed. Fang shed his own clothes and stepped into the shower behind him, an imposing figure that took up most of the space.

"Now, I want you to reach down and present your little hole to me."

Wren did it immediately, grasping his cheeks and spreading them. Making his hole utterly available.

Fang groaned. "It looks so pink and ready."

And a smooth, hard tip kissed Wren's entrance, tapping against it, stroking around it.

"Are you ready?"

Wren nodded desperately. Fang lined the toy up and pushed it in without warning, so Wren opened around it. Wren could already tell this plug was thicker than the previous. He gasped and clenched, helpless as it made space for itself in his body.

Then the widest part of the plug pushed past his rim, and it was fully inside, his entrance clinging around the stem, its flared base nestled between his cheeks.

"There we go," Fang murmured. "You take these so easily. I can only imagine it'll be the same when you're ready for my cock."

Wren grew so wet, his hole ached.

Now that he knew what to look out for, he felt the plug acutely. He felt the weight of it, the size of it. It felt like a foreign pressure, like Fang had already laid claim inside his body.

"Shower time," Fang murmured.

"W-with that inside me?"

"Yes." Fang licked his lips and stood back in the far corner, his arms folded. Not that there was much space left in here anyway.

Wren used the hotel shampoo on his hair, shuffling from one foot to the other because he could feel the plug nudging inside him with every little movement. This was even more intimate than yesterday, when he'd bent over Fang's desk.

Right now, Wren's cock was flushed and spent, dripping cum, but it was also steadily growing hard again because Fang was watching him, close enough to touch. Fang's cock was completely thick and red, jutting out like it demanded Wren's worship.

"Such a cute little cock," Fang said, raking his gaze up and down Wren's body.

Wren flushed. He lathered shampoo into his hair, his arms raised so everything was exposed—his hard nipples, his thin torso, his embarrassingly-hard cock.

"The plug is so deep inside you," Fang whispered, barely audible over the shower spray. "Keeping your ass stretched for me. Getting you used to bigger and bigger things."

"Will you really put your cock inside me at some point?" Wren blurted. Because his brain-to-mouth filter had evaporated the moment that plug went in his ass.

"Yes," Fang growled. "At the very end. When you're squirming and begging for me, when you've soaked your pants with your slick because you can't think about anything else."

Wren moaned. He couldn't help looking at the entirety of Fang's body. The way his shoulder muscles were bunched, his forearms thick and folded in front of his sculpted chest. He followed Fang's dark treasure trail of hair, moaning when he let himself stare at Fang's cock from base to tip, following every vein and rivulet of water.

"Want my cock?" Fang grinned, reaching down to take himself in hand. He pumped a few times, his grip strong but firm. Wren's throat went dry. "Remember to wash the rest of your body, Birdie."

Wren wrenched his gaze away and grabbed for the soap, hurriedly scrubbing his arms and chest. He felt Fang's heavy gaze roving up and down his body, following his hands as they scrubbed down his thighs, between his legs.

"Wash your cock," Fang groaned.

Under Fang's attention, every caress felt ten times as sinful. Wren squirmed as he wrapped his soapy hand around his cock, ever so aware of the pleasure as he covered himself in suds. "It feels so good."

"Yeah? Give it a squeeze."

Wren squeezed, and almost fell over.

Fang caught him by his arm and steadied him, his breathing rough. His fingers dipped between Wren's cheeks again; he grasped the base of the plug and slowly pulled it out of Wren, forcing his rim to stretch around it.

Wren moaned. Fang's precum landed on his chest, only to be washed away by the shower spray.

Then the plug was out of him, slick in Fang's grasp.

"Bend over and wash your hole," Fang murmured.

Wren's neck heated. He obeyed, slipping his fingers down over his opening. It was swollen now, loose, and he could tell it needed to be filled. Roughly.

"I love the way your fingers look against your hole," Fang said. "Push them inside."

Wren blushed hard, pushing two fingers into himself. "It's nothing like yours."

"Do you wish those were my fingers?"

"Y-yes."

"Good," Fang growled. "My fingers are bigger. They'll find your prostate and hook against it, and make you scream."

Wren throbbed. "Don't just tempt me with promises," he whimpered. "I need you inside!"

Fang abruptly turned Wren's back to the warm shower. The suds rinsed off. And he pushed the plug back into Wren's hole, a steady thrust that went right into him, as though it was trying to claim him from the inside.

Wren almost came again, clutching at Fang. "I-I need more," Wren panted. "Please. If not your cock, then your fingers."

Fang groaned and squeezed himself. He pressed Wren chest-first against the tiled wall, reaching between Wren's cheeks to grasp the plug again. He began thrusting it in and out of Wren, over and over until Wren shuddered and dug his nails into his asscheeks, needing to come. "Fang, Fang. Please. Please let me come."

Fang growled. He pulled the plug out. And three fingers pushed into Wren's hole all at once, stretching him so well that he screamed and came, his body clenching around Fang's fingers.

Fang swore. But he didn't seem satisfied with that. He swirled his fingers around inside, pressing and probing until he found that sensitive spot again.

He began to work that spot ruthlessly, until Wren's spine arched and his legs buckled. Fang held him against the wall, his fingers thrusting roughly into Wren's hole.

"Come."

Wren came hard, his eyes rolling back, his body trying to suck Fang deeper.

Fang lifted him off his feet with an arm around his chest, his fingers still buried in Wren. He brushed his lips against Wren's ear, his tongue flicking along Wren's skin in a ghost of a touch.

"You're so fucking lovely when you come," Fang whispered. "So perfect when your sweet ass clenches around my fingers, like you need me inside you all the time."

Wren shivered hard. "I need."

"Good." Fang set him down and nudged him backward against the wall. And he began working his own cock with hard, fast strokes, until it grew redder and thicker.

Wren almost forgot to breathe, just watching the slick slide of Fang's fist, the way his cock leaked and jerked.

Gods, he wanted it buried inside him somehow, stretching him open, owning him completely.

"I want," Wren blurted.

With a groan, Fang erupted all over Wren's chest, hot streaks of cum covering his nipples, dripping into his belly button. Fang used his other hand to cover Wren's chest, rubbing his thick cum into Wren's skin. Wren shuddered.

What would it be like to lick Fang's cum off his hand? To have it shoot inside his hole?

"Wash up," Fang murmured. But he trailed his white-streaked fingers up Wren's throat, massaging his cum into Wren's skin. As though he was trying to leave its scent there.

Wren's blush deepened.

With a small smile, Fang pulled away and washed his hands, squeezing the last of his cum out of his cock. Except there was a round, dusky knot at his base, and—it was definitely more than Wren could take right now.

But Wren couldn't stop looking.

Fang glanced back at him—Wren hurriedly yanked his gaze away—and stepped out of the shower, his muscles flexing as he toweled himself dry.

Except he was still watching Wren, like Wren's body was so much more intriguing than his own.

Wren hurried back under the shower spray, squirming when he ran his hands through the cum on his body. It was thick, slippery, and...

It had come straight out of Fang's cock.

Did Wren's hands also smell like Fang's cum now? He tried sniffing them but he couldn't tell.

Outside the shower, Fang's mouth pulled into a smug grin.

He watched every single second of Wren washing his cum off his body.

When Wren finally stepped out, Fang was waiting for him with a huge, fluffy towel. He wrapped it around Wren, then stood back and watched as Wren dried himself.

"Good shower?" Fang all but purred.

"I don't think that counted as a shower."

"What does it count as, then?"

"Um, touching. A lot of touching." Wren shivered.

Fang's smile grew. "You enjoyed it."

Wren ducked his head shyly.

Fang followed him out of the bathroom. Before Wren could move far, Fang caught him around the waist, snatching the third plug off the bed. "This is what you'll wear to sleep."

Wren's breath rushed out. He bent over the bed immediately, presenting himself. Had that been too forward? He squirmed and sneaked a peek at Fang.

But Fang only swore quietly. The next thing Wren knew, a solid bluntness pressed against his hole, pushing in, stretching him wider than before. Wren gasped and clutched at the sheets.

Fully seated, this third plug pressed firmly against Wren's prostate. Every time he moved, it nudged against that bundle of nerves. He couldn't help but moan.

Fang's smile was all sharp teeth, again. "Problem?"

"It feels good," Wren mumbled as he sat back on the bed. The plug pressed more deeply into him, knocking the breath from his lungs.

"Good. Now, sleep."

Wren froze. He was perched on the edge of the mattress, unable to think about anything but the firm pressure in his body. "I-I've never had anything this big inside me before."

Fang's smile softened. "Would you like me to remove it?"

Wren shook his head quickly. "It's just—so new."

"Do you need help getting into bed?"

Wren nodded. "But I should, um, brush my teeth first."

Fang drew closer, offering a hand to pull Wren to his feet. Wren wobbled with him all the way to the bathroom, where Fang gave him a new toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste.

When he was done, he found Fang stretched out on one side of the bed, still completely naked. Wren's ass squeezed around the plug.

Fang crossed the room and returned to Wren, linking their hands as he walked Wren to the other side of the bed. "Can you get onto the bed yourself?"

"I'll try." Wren lifted his leg to climb onto the bed. The movement opened up his cheeks, and the plug nudged inside him. He moaned.

"You look incredible," Fang breathed. "I would very much like to pin you down right there, and push my cock between your cheeks."

Wren blushed and scrambled under the soft covers, unable to look him in the eye. "O-oh."

To tell the truth, no one had ever been this keen on him. No one had ever thought he looked this desirable, the way Fang did.

Fang stepped into the bathroom for a bit. When he returned, he lay on top of the covers on the other side of the bed.

There was a vastness between them. They could fit two more Wrens in that space, and Wren didn't know how sharing one bed could feel so... lonely. He didn't know how to breach that distance, either.

Fang turned to face him. "Are you comfortable?"

Wren swallowed the words that wanted to escape: I want to be closer to you. You feel safe and I would feel better in your arms.

Instead, he nodded.

Fang's mouth twitched into a soft smile. "Sleep well. We have a long day tomorrow."

"You're the one doing all the driving."

"I am." Fang laughed.

Wren snuggled further under the covers, the sheets silky against his bare skin. He tried not to think about the plug, the way Fang had touched him so intimately in the shower. "Good night."

"‘Night, Birdie."

Fang turned out the lights.

The thing was, everything became so much sharper in the darkness. Without Wren's sight, every sound was amplified—Fang's breathing, the rustle of sheets when Wren moved even slightly. Wren's own heartbeat.

He tried to quiet his breathing. He tried to figure out if Fang had fallen asleep.

"I can hear you thinking," Fang murmured, his voice smooth like dark chocolate.

"I don't know how to stop," Wren whispered back.

"Here." More shuffling. Then a large hand wrapped around Wren's, warm and calloused. It felt comforting. Safe.

Wren hadn't felt this safe in a long time.

Within moments, he was sound asleep.

In the middle of the night, Steffie began crying. Wren snuffled and made to get out of bed, only to have a large hand clasp his shoulder gently, pressing him back against his pillow.

"I'll handle it," Fang said softly. "Sleep."

He left the bed. Wren tried to squint, but it was a struggle to open his eyes.

All he heard as he fell back asleep, was Steffie's crying tapering off, and Fang making comforting sounds in the darkness. Then something sank back onto the bed behind him, and Wren was lost to slumber.