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Whenever Erik comes back from some kind of mysterious errand with that look on his face, Charles thinks about hiding under something.
Then he gets hard.
This time what Erik's holding is a small paper sack, and whatever's in it rattles a bit. He sets it on Charles's desk, eyebrows raised, smiling.
"Want to play?"
Charles glances at the paper sack and looks up at Erik. One to the other, one to the other.
"You could always cheat and read my mind."
"No."
"Or take a peek in the bag itself."
Charles wrinkles his nose.
"Or..." Erik smiles. "You could just ask."
Charles sighs. "What's in the bag?"
The bag floats off Charles's desk, still rattling a little. "Come upstairs and find out."
In Erik's room, the bag settles down gently on a nightstand. Erik starts unbuttoning his shirt, back toward Charles, and Charles raises an eyebrow. "Should I join you, or is this something I'm only supposed to watch?"
"Oh, you'll definitely be joining me." Erik grins over his shoulder. "Take your clothes off."
"All right..." Charles glances back at the door, which isn't entirely closed; it slams shut, and the lock clicks into place despite the absence of a skeleton key. It's sort of a stalemate--Charles can't get the door open, but he could make Erik open it. He won't. Erik could keep Charles here against his will. He won't, either. But it sends a little thrill up Charles's spine anyway.
"No one here but the two of us," Erik says softly. "Go on. Get undressed."
"What's in the bag?" Charles asks. Eric just smiles and finishes undressing, and Charles... well, it's all he can do to resist the urge to look into Erik's mind and see what's in store for him, so he gets undressed, too, leaving his clothes in a messy little pile on the floor.
When he's done, Erik gestures over at the bed. Charles takes a breath, ready to make it a contest of wills, but then Erik rattles that damned bag again, and Charles knows full well he isn't going to be able to hold out. He heads over to the bed and lies down on his back, raising his eyebrows at Erik. He wonders if he's doing it right.
"You're fine," Erik assures him. "Just fine that way. Not to worry."
"It'd be easier not to worry if I knew what was coming," Charles points out.
Erik laughs. "All right. I think I've teased you long enough."
He comes up on the bed, too, straddling Charles's thighs. Charles looks up at him for a moment, and then he glances at the bag.
This time, when it rattles, it doesn't move. Instead, a length of beaded ball chain--beads about four millimeters in diameter--starts snaking out of the top of the bag, and like a magician's scarf trick, it keeps coming and coming.
"That's new," Charles says. He looks up at Erik, whose eyes haven't left him. "And inventive. Should I put my hands up?"
"Mm-hm." The ball chain comes floating onto the bed, and once Charles has his wrists crossed above his head, the end of the chain winds rapidly around them. There's the slightest bit of friction as it binds his wrists, which only serves to make him harder.
An ordinary man would use rope for something like this. It could be done this way, winding it off a spool, cutting it and tying it piece-by-piece. It surprises Charles not in the least that, given a number of options, Erik chose this one. He wonders how much ball chain there is in the bag.
So far the answer seems to be "plenty". Once there are five wraps, the chain snaps with a soft tink. Charles looks up at it, wondering for a split-second how it's going to hold him if there's no fastening... but he underestimated Erik, who narrows his eyes at the ends of the chain. The ends fuse neatly together, creating an unbroken line of ball chain.
Charles shivers a little. "Elegant," he says.
"Thank you." Erik grins at him. "But I'm not done, of course."
"Of course you're not," Charles agrees. He squirms a little. "What's next?"
In answer, the ball chain goes winding between Charles's hands, separating his wrists. It forms a loop and threads itself through the end of that loop, and once again Charles thinks about what this would be like with an ordinary man. With an ordinary man who had nothing but a length of rope, the rope would surely be in a useless tangle by now.
Charles is--not for the first time--grateful that Erik isn't ordinary. Erik winds the chain around the bedrails and fuses it in place, locking Charles down neatly. Charles takes a deep breath and rocks his hips up, wishing he could spread his legs.
"Like that, do you?" Erik murmurs.
"Surprisingly, yes."
"I'm not surprised." Erik smiles. "And I'm still not done with you."
"I certainly hope not," Charles retorts; he's harder than ever, and waiting is becoming more and more of a torment. He shifts his hips as best he can. "You could move up a few inches. Or you could settle down where you are..."
Erik floats the bag down the bed and lets it settle next to Charles's thigh. Charles wonders again how much ball chain is in the bag; the weight beside him gives nothing away, as Erik could be holding onto some of the weight just to be sneaky about it.
"You could make me," he says lightly. "If you wanted to."
Charles frowns at him. "I'm not going to do that."
"You could even make me think it was my idea." He grins. "Just leave it as it is, with you all nicely bound for me. Really, making me fuck you wouldn't be much of a stretch. I certainly do want to."
Charles shakes his head. "I'm not going to do that," he says firmly, and yet Erik slides down the bed, presses his legs apart, kneels in between them. Charles groans, eyes closing for a moment. Yes, God, thank God, thank God, he thinks, and then he opens his eyes so he won't miss a moment of whatever Erik's planning to do.
Erik grins at him, as if he's been waiting for Charles to get his eyes open again. And there's the ball chain again, winding its way out of the bag, and--
Charles's eyes go a little wide as he feels the chain slide over his thigh. And then over his inner thigh, and then the end teases, feather-light, across his balls and up his shaft. It's cool, but not too cold, and yet the sensation sends Charles into shivers.
"Erik...?"
"Relax, Charles. You'll like this."
Every moment is slow, every touch a gliding tease. Erik winds the ball chain around Charles's shaft, at the base, and then takes loops of it and wraps his balls with them, separating them with a modified figure-eight pattern that anchors itself with loops around his shaft, too. Erik's delicate about it when he separates the chain this time, no painful snap, and he holds the ends in place while he gets another length of chain out, this one wrapped around and around Charles's cock, a handspan worth, all those beads quickly heating to Charles's body temperature.
Charles groans. "Erik..."
"How does it feel?"
"Heavy," Charles answers, moving his hips back and forth. "Or is that you?"
"It's just the chain." Erik smiles. "But I could make it heavier. Or lighter. I could loosen it, or tighten it. What would you like?"
God, if only Erik were the telepath. He could look past the thrill of fear that's sliding up Charles's spine, the uncertainty that comes from never having done anything quite like this before. The chains wrapped around his cock and balls are smooth and elegant and somehow threatening, as if they could give pleasure or pain, depending on Erik's whim, and Charles is hard-pressed to say whether it's anticipation or nervousness that has him starting to sweat at the temples.
"Charles," Erik murmurs; his eyes are taking in everything, Charles's cock straining against the metal, the dampness at his temples, the way he's licking his lips and breathing too fast. Perhaps he doesn't need to be a mind-reader after all.
The pressure starts at his balls, light at first. Charles moans, spreading his legs even wider. Erik grins. "Do you like that?"
"Yes," Charles gasps. "Yes. You could--more, you could give me more, I could take more--"
"I have no doubt." The chain tightens, and Charles gasps, whole world narrowing to that heavy pressure on his balls. It's getting difficult to hold his legs apart; Charles lets them fall open on the bed and tries to remember to breathe.
Erik lets up for a moment and then squeezes again, and the weight of the chain is a dull ache now, but somehow warm and solid and right, as if it's drawing his heartbeat down between his legs. He can feel the low thud of it, the heat and rhythm, and he takes a long, deep breath when Erik releases the pressure and gives him a moment to recover.
"I thought about tying your legs, too, but I've got a better idea," Erik murmurs. There are four loud snapping sounds from inside the bag, and four lengths of chain come swirling out, fast this time, like snakes. And when Erik winds them around his legs--two up above his knees, two down at his ankles--they do seem to hiss, and the impact is almost like being bitten.
But when they're in place, several wraps at each location, Charles's eyes widen, because he understands, now; he knows what Erik's going to do with those wraps the instant before it happens.
Erik bends Charles's legs at the knees, tilts them back, spreads them wide. Charles is left open and exposed, and he lets his legs fall against the restraints, held safely in mid-air by Erik's power. "Erik--"
"Do you have any idea what you look like, Charles?" Erik asks, voice gone a little breathless. "What it's like looking at you and knowing you're mine?"
Haven't I always been? Charles wonders, but he knows without asking that this is something different. Hands bound, legs at Erik's mercy, cock and balls trussed and waiting for Erik to decide whether to give him pleasure or pain--there has never been a time when he belonged to Erik more than he does right now.
"Then do something about it," Charles whispers.
"Oh, I have every intention..." Erik trails off, thought not quite complete, but his actions make words superfluous anyway. He rolls the chain wound around Charles's cock up, up and down, slow and steady rhythm, and tightens the chain around his balls.
The combination is so intense it's almost agony. Charles twists, wrists pulling against the chain binding them. "Erik, Erik, God--"
"Let me in," Erik whispers. "Share it with me, let me see what it's like for you. Show me from the inside."
Charles squeezes his eyes shut--he wants to, always wants to, but there's so much--"I can't," he gasps. "I can't, wait, let me breathe a second--"
The pain stops, and the chain around his cock slows, only twisting lightly back and forth. Charles catches his breath, opens his eyes, and leaps forward with his mind the way he can't with his body, tackling Erik's thoughts and driving his own into them.
// Love this want this more please more-- // The moment he thinks it, it's a reality. Both chains go tight, and the one around his cock twists back and forth, back and forth, like someone's hand on him, harder and tighter than anyone's ever touched him before. He gasps, chest heaving, shaking a little in his restraints.
// That's it. Show me. Show me what you're feeling. //
// Fear, // Charles gives him, and Erik eases the pressure for a moment before bearing down again. Charles bites his lower lip and stifles a cry, but in his mind it's echoing off the walls, laced with all his pain and joy and need and want.
Erik shifts, lies down between Charles's legs, and he holds Charles's cock steady with just that grip on the chain. Charles can see into Erik's thoughts, knows what he's going to do before he does it, and his unfiltered panic of // No, can't, won't last, I'll come, don't // gets through just in time. Erik tightens the chain hard around the base of Charles's shaft, and a split-second later he takes Charles's cock in his mouth. He sucks hard at the head while the beads shift and twist and tease and tighten around the rest of it, and Charles cries out again, mind and body both, coming and being denied release all at the same time. It's so good he nearly sobs with it, body going limp against the chains holding him in place.
// Yes? // Erik thinks at him. Charles isn't forming words anymore; all he can do is send Erik his emotions, the raw sensations that Erik's driving out of him.
// Need, want, more, hurts, scared, want, want... //
Erik slides his tongue back and forth against the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, and Charles whimpers. His mind brushes a plea over Erik's, but Erik either doesn't catch it or chooses not to act on it; neither would be out of the question.
And then the chain's tight again, drawing his balls down, gripping his shaft hard, pain spiking and cresting and lashing Charles hard enough he's sure he's going to go insane with it, lost in Erik's mind, raw and open to Erik in ways he'll never recover from.
Then, just as quickly, it's all pleasure, sinuous moving metal and Erik's warm, elegant tongue. Charles can feel the tears leaking from his eyes; it's everything, this is everything--
// You're everything, // he thinks at Erik, the first semi-coherent thought he's had in a few minutes. // Everything, I can't, I don't know what I did without you, I need you, everything, please, Erik, please, please... //
Erik draws his mouth off Charles's cock, slowly, and he crawls up the bed, holding himself just above Charles, eye-to-eye with him.
// You mean it, // he thinks, and Charles does his damnedest to focus on him. There's something shuttered in the way he thinks those words, and Charles could reach in, could tear the walls away and take the emotion and the hidden thoughts by force, but no, no. Let Erik have his secrets, let him come to it in his own time. There's no other choice.
// I mean it, // Charles thinks back at him, and as exposed as he already is, already feels, it's not much harder to open up all the way and show Erik all the things he means, all the emotions he's never been brave enough to name.
Erik reaches down and puts a hand behind Charles's neck; he draws Charles up and meets him halfway, kissing him hard, his tongue pressing deeply into Charles's mouth. Charles opens there, too, gives him everything, lets Erik have anything he wants. He doesn't listen in on Erik's thoughts, but he can feel waves of passion burning through him, need and want and urgency all tied up in complicated, tense knots.
// Please, // Charles thinks. // Please. Inside me, please, take me, have me, I need to give you that right now-- //
Erik wrests his mouth away. "Yes," he pants. "Yes."
He licks his palm and wets his cock with it, sucks two fingers into his mouth and opens Charles with them. It isn't much, but it shouldn't have to be; Charles wants him, is ready for him, needs this and doesn't give a damn if there's a little pain to go along with it. Erik pushes inside him, moaning, his pleasure leaking off him in waves. Charles clutches at it with his mind, holds it and meets it with his own, and then Erik's in him, moving inside him, both of them gasping with each other's sensations.
// More, // Charles thinks, and the image of the chain around his cock is clear. Erik nods, fucking into Charles even faster, harder, and the chain starts moving, too, ball chain rolling up and down his shaft, jerking him off with the same urgent pace that's driving Erik's fierce strokes into him.
// Arms, please, let me have my arms-- // The minute he thinks it, the chains binding his wrists snap; the beads fly everywhere, clatter against the floor, but Charles has his arms free now, and he wraps them around Erik's shoulders, pulling Erik closer. // Yes, God, hurt me-- //
Erik groans, and for a moment he stops short, chains whipping around Charles's cock but--less, now, less chain around his shaft than before. But he can see it in Erik's mind--half the chain's wrapped around Erik's cock, now, squeezing tight so Erik can't come yet.
Charles huffs out a laugh. "Sorry?"
"Warn me before you say something like that, for pity's sake," Erik mutters. Charles gives him a weak squeeze about the shoulders, and Erik exhales softly against the side of Charles's neck. The chain moves again, wrapping back around Charles's cock, and Erik starts moving it--just the chain for now, his own cock buried deeply in Charles's ass and staying that way.
It's not long before that has Charles groaning, squirming, grabbing at Erik's shoulders and rocking up against him. "Warning you," Charles grits out, and then he thinks, // Hurt me again. Please, Erik. //
Erik gasps and tightens the chain, and the pain is beautiful, perfect, just another thing that's caught up in Charles's want and need right now. Erik starts moving again, thank God, thank God, and then in spite of the chain, in spite of wanting this to last forever, Charles comes, clutching at Erik's shoulders with his hands and holding tight to Erik's mind with his own.
Erik presses kisses to Charles's cheek, to his neck, to his shoulder, but he isn't finished with Charles yet. He drives in, finally going as fast and as hard as he can, and his own pleasure is blinding--Charles gasps and rides it out, too, almost feeling it in his own cock when Erik comes.
His legs fall down to the bed, chains on them gone slack, and the chains on his cock and balls are getting looser as Charles's erection starts going down. He chuckles and rubs Erik's back for a few seconds before collapsing entirely.
// Love-- //
It's the tiniest whisper of a thought, not his but Erik's. The heady sensation of coming and getting to tag along on Erik's orgasm, too, starts to fade; he's lingering, and Erik might not even realize it.
He eases his way back out, carefully, keeping the blissed-out smile on his face as he climbs out of Erik's mind. Erik hasn't moved, hasn't changed position; he's still draped all over Charles, with no sign that he's ever planning to move.
"Erik," Charles murmurs. He reaches up and threads his fingers through Erik's hair. "That was amazing."
"Mmm. Yes," Erik agrees. He nestles his head against Charles's shoulder. "Can I nap like this or should I move?"
Charles puts his other arm around Erik's waist. Love, he thinks, wondering if that thought will ever be fully-formed, will ever reach him as something given freely. "You never have to move," he murmurs, holding Erik right where he is.
-end-