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Sunday had no idea of why he even accepted this offer in the first place. Maybe because he thought that it would be easy—just a simple matter of waiting until he saw Gallagher again. He had even thought that this might have been fun in some way. But perhaps he had underestimated how horrendous the wait would be.
Now three days after giving the literal key to his pleasure to Gallagher—the craving which had started as a small background noise that he could easily ignore now became a constant and nagging presence—nibbling at his patience hour by hour. With no clear idea of when he might see Gallagher again, Sunday found himself with his phone in hand, thumb hovering over Gallagher's contact as he considered swallowing his pride and texting the bartender to admit his defeat and beg the device to be removed.
After a long and silent mental battle in his head, temptation tightening his grip, Sunday ultimately let out a slow breath and turned off his phone. He tucked it back into his pocket—he was sure he could resist some more. The urge hadn't gone away, not even in the slightest, but now he was determined to endure. He convinced himself he could hold out a little longer—he had to, giving in now would feel like—would be letting Gallagher win.
But in a quiet corner of his mind—one he barely acknowledged—Sunday couldn’t help but admit that he was enjoying this. The denial, the loss of control, the slow burn of anticipation, it all stirred something in him that felt dangerously close to desire. And as much as he resented it, a part of him already knew he’d want to do it again, handling the key once more. Maybe next time… he’d even ask for it
But it was clear that Sunday's overall mood was affected by it. Everytime someone tried to speak to him about anything he felt like leaving them to their own issues and was barely able to concentrate on anything they were babbling about whether it was work or not but that was his duty—so Sunday tried to focus and tolerate everything.
However as the hours passed Sunday noted the subtle shift of demeanour of the people around him. He could tell that the conversations grew more cautious, people's voices being not as loud as normal, that each word they said were chosen with extra care, as if everyone was walking on eggshells around him. It didn't take long for Sunday to guess why—they had picked up the frustration in his mood. The head of the Family was clearly more irritated than usual—whether they understood the reason or not didn’t matter. They were adjusting, instinctively trying not to provoke him.
______✧______
Sunday was for a second time staring at his phone, contemplating whether he should call Gallagher or not. The urge to surrender and ask for release was overwhelming but just like before, he fought it back with a quiet sigh and slipped the phone back into his pocket, determined to endure a little longer.
He headed towards his quarters, already starting to slowly unbutton his shirt—ready to shed his clothes the moment he entered his room—however when he opened the door to his private quarter he stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn't expecting the lights to be already turned on or the sight of Gallagher on his phone waiting inside, sitting on his couch.
“Took you long enough.” Gallagher said, glancing up with a faint smirk as Sunday stepped through the doorway. “Thought you might never show up.” His voice was calm, almost teasing, but there was a knowing edge to it.
The moment he heard Gallagher's voice Sunday closed the door before walking towards him. He tried to keep his pace constant and slow, his expression composed, but he knew it was no use. Gallagher could see right through him. Knowing he was desperate, the brunet’s smile widened, slow and satisfied, as Sunday closed the distance between them and finally lowered himself onto his lap.
Without a word Sunday leaned in, placed his arms around the other's neck and rested his head against Gallagher's shoulder. His lips pressing soft, slow kisses along the curve of his neck, each one a silent plea.
Gallagher chuckled at the gesture, not out of mockery but just pure fondness and affection for the halovian. “Tell me what you want, birdie. I can't give you something when I don't know what it is.” Gallagher could, he knew exactly what Sunday wanted already but teasing him a bit wouldn't hurt.
Gallagher didn’t miss the low, frustrated groan that slipped from Sunday before he responded. “Remove it…” He whispered in Gallagher's ear, breath warm against it. But he knew that wouldn't be enough, Gallagher wanted a more precise answer. Sunday hesitated only for a moment before swallowing a portion of his pride and lifting his head to repeat himself—this time more clearly and with more urgency. “Remove the belt.”
“Maybe you can give me something in exchange first? I'm not really sure if I want to remove it.” Another tease which Sunday's only response to was an annoyed roll of his eyes. He reached up, fingers curling lightly around the back of Gallagher’s neck as he leaned in. His breath hitched before he pressed his lips to Gallagher’s—slow at first, searching. The kiss was quiet, but it carried the weight of everything he didn't dare say aloud—the frustration, the longing, the slight surrender.
Gallagher responded almost immediately, his hands tightening on Sunday’s waist. The kiss deepened, losing its gentleness as hunger broke through restraint. Sunday tilted his head, sighing softly against Gallagher’s mouth, his fingers threading through the other man's hair.
Gallagher let out a low chuckle when Sunday's lips instantly parted when he felt the teasing brush of Gallagher's tongue pass over his lower lip, it was almost like out of pure instinct. Sunday’s fingers tightened slightly in his hair, and Gallagher took his time exploring his mouth, savoring every second of the surrender Sunday no longer bothered to hide.
When they finally pulled away from the kiss, Sunday was left breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each sharp inhale. His lips tingled and his cheeks were flushed, a warm, rosy color creeping across his skin. His pulse was racing, heart hammering in his chest, and it took him a moment to steady himself, the sensation of Gallagher’s lips still lingering on his.
“This doesn't feel like a fair exchange you know…” Gallagher murmured, his hands tracing slow, deliberate circles over Sunday’s waist, the fabric of his clothes slipping beneath his fingertips. There was a part of him that would've preferred having the halovian completely nude but he wasn't in a rush.
“You–” Sunday snapped, his tone sharp with irritation but Gallagher only chuckled. And that made it clear that the kiss wasn't going to get him what he wanted, Sunday’s expression shifted. He narrowed his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line for only a second—then he moved.
Sunday slid off from his lap, lowering himself to the floor without breaking eye contact. Once on his knees he settled between Gallagher's legs, and gently parted the brunet’s thighs open. He slowly closed the distance between himself and the forming bulge in Gallagher's pants. Sunday leaned in, his breath warm against the growing bulge straining beneath the fabric of Gallagher’s pants. Sunday took his time, fingers moving to the belt opening it then he eased down the zipper.
Just as Sunday reached for the waistband of his boxers, Gallagher shifted beneath him, he lifted his hips and pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees in one fluid motion—clearly starting to get tired of waiting.
“Starting to act like a feral dog, now aren't we?” Sunday murmured, voice laced with amusement and taunt as his gaze drifted down to the half-hard cock now freed in front of him. His eyes were filled with thirst as he drank the sight with no attempt to hide.
Sunday leaned in and with deliberate slowness let his tongue trace the side of Gallagher’s length—from the thick base all the way to the sensitive tip and that seemed to arouse Gallagher enough for his cock to become fully hard. When he eventually reached the head, he paused for a second before placing a single soft kiss right over the slit and didn't miss the way Gallagher's breath hitched in his throat.
Feeling encouraged by the reaction Sunday continued with his teasing, his mouth returned to the base before beginning a new path upward. He plastered Gallagher's shaft with tender, lingering kisses, lips brushing softly against heated skin. Once he reached the tip once again he looked up only for his eyes to meet with Gallagher.
Without breaking eye contact, Sunday’s lips parted as he took just the tip into the warmth of his mouth with care. He sucked gently, letting his tongue swirl around it slowly, savoring the weight and heat of the member in his mouth. His hands remained steady on Gallagher’s thighs, holding him in place as he gradually eased down a little further.
He felt Gallagher's hand sliding through his hair, the fingers threading through the strands. They grazed lightly against his scalp, the touch gentle but purposeful—like a silent encouragement.
Sunday relaxed his jaw, steadying his breath and controlling his reflexes carefully, taking the last inch of Gallagher until his nose brushed against the pubes at the base. He just stayed there without moving, letting himself adjust.
The warmth of Gallagher deep inside him sent a subtle shiver down through his body as he began to draw his head back up, setting a steady, deliberate rhythm as he started to move.
“You're doing so good for me..” Gallagher's voice was soft but heavy with heat. The whispered praise struck something deep in Sunday prompting him to accelerate his rhythm.
The hand tangled in his hair tightened with just enough pressure to tell him he was doing perfectly—giving Gallagher exactly what he wanted. Sunday responded to that silent guidance with growing confidence, the rhythm of his movements becoming smoother, more eager. Gallagher's grip in his hair tightened and a moment later he began to move, hips rolling forward, thrusting into the halovian's mouth which only made him moan around the cock.
“You're taking it so well.” Sunday's lashes fluttered shut at the praise while Gallagher fucked into his mouth. He focused on keeping his cheeks hollow, adjusting as Gallagher’s length hit the back of his throat again and again.
“Fuck–” The brunet’s pace had started to lose all its restraint now, turning merciless, claiming and Sunday took it all, fingers digging into Gallagher's thighs for balance as he let his mouth be used. Sunday felt himself getting light-headed, vision blurring with tears as the rough treatment to his mouth continued, however just before he could pass out Gallagher pulled out letting Sunday regain his breath for a brief moment—but the relief was short lived because within seconds Gallagher plunged back inside with a sharp thrust, making Sunday whimper around his cock again and it was all it took for Gallagher to be coming down his throat.
Thick ropes of pearly white came to place themselves on his tongue as Gallagher reached his orgasm, his whole body stilling and his grip on Sunday's hair tight as it happened. Sunday waited for Gallagher to come down from his high before he removed the cock from his mouth, Gallagher sight landed on him and Sunday swallowed the warm liquid in his mouth, the feeling of the liquid running down his throat only making his cunt wetter before he lapped at the head of the shaft to lick it clean.
He feels himself practically dripping out more slick each time he glances at the length in front of him, desperate he tries to chase friction by grinding against Gallagher foot yet it doesn't give him any real pleasure—only deepened his frustration more, a whimper escapes him as the need continues to build up with no release in sight.
“I guess it’s my turn to hold up my end of the deal.” Gallagher said, his voice low and teasing as he reached into the pocket of his vest. He pulled out a small black key, holding it up for a moment before slipping it back into his hand. In one swift motion he lifted the halovian up the floor—Sunday moved on instinct, wrapping his legs around Gallagher waist as he was carried to his bedroom, heart racing with anticipation.
Gallagher's lips met his in kiss as he transported Sunday to his room. The kiss Gallagher was offering him felt like he intended to savor every soft gasp and shiver he drew out of the halovian. Sunday responded with a slow, needy press of his own, with a tilt of his head and a parting of lips.
He kissed him like the world had stilled around them, each movement patient and thorough, as though he intended to leave no part of Sunday’s mouth unexplored. Sunday sighed into him, his body relaxing, melting into the contact, his fingers sliding up Gallagher’s chest to clutch at his collar.
Sunday was so focused on the kiss, the heat of Gallagher’s mouth and the press of his tongue that he barely noticed that he was being lowered onto his bed. It wasn't until the kiss broke and Gallagher finally pulled away, leaving Sunday breathless and dazed to the point he only now realised that his pants were on the ground and that most of his upper garments were removed too—only his black turtleneck remained, unzipped and hanging open, exposing his flushed skin to the cool air.
Gallagher slid the black key into the lock, the quiet click of it unlocking Sunday's chastity belt being the only sound in the room accompanied with their ragged breath. The brunet slipped the accessory off and set it aside, the moment the device was gone Sunday drew in a sharp breath—his body instantly reacting to the exposure. The cool air of the room brushing against his slick, sensitive folds sent a tremor through him, his hips twitching slightly as a soft gasp slipped from his throat.
A single finger traced slowly over Sunday’s soaking folds with a gentle touch before being joined by another one to push past them without a warning. Sunday gasped, hips jolting and back arching off the bed but after being ignored for so long it was only normal for his body's response to be this intense. Sunday's eyes flew wide when Gallagher curled those two digits inside him, a sharp cry escaping him as he threw his head back with his lips parted in a breathless moan.
“Has it really been that long since your hole had anything inside?” Gallagher murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “You’re unbelievably tight.” Gallagher didn't wait for Sunday's response nor did he give him the chance to catch his breath, before his fingers began to move, pushing deeper—drawing soft whimpers and gasps out from Sunday.
“Ngh-..” Sunday's mind was clouded, every thought consumed by the feeling of Gallagher’s fingers moving inside him. However, among the haze there was one thought that remained clear—how it wasn't enough. His body craved something bigger, something thicker that would fill him completely and hit all the right places inside him.
Sunday swallowed down a deep breath, trembling a little. “Pl‐ please…I want…” His voice turns to an unintelligible mumble and he knows he's going to need to repeat himself. It is extremely embarrassing to ask and the pleasure he’s being given isn't enough.
“You've only been perfect for me so far,” Gallagher said, voice filled with satisfaction as he kept the rhythm of his thrusts inside Sunday's cunt steady, never flattering. “Just ask, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He punctuated the words with a slight curl of his fingers, the implication clear.
“I‐ I need you inside of me.” Sunday babbled, voice trembling and full with desperation. “Please Gallagher… I need it… I need you…” He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, only that he needed more—needed him—and every plea that left his lips came with a rising whine, each syllable heavy with need.
Gallagher’s eyes widened, surprised by the raw desperation in Sunday’s voice. It wasn’t like him to plead so openly—yet the voice of his partner, each breathy plea, the trembling urgency in his tone—it sent a jolt of arousal straight through him. Seeing Sunday like this, laid bare and needy, was maddeningly intoxicating, and it only made Gallagher want to give him exactly what he was begging for.
“Are you sure birdie? I've barely–” Gallagher asked, scissoring the two digits inside Sunday to make his point. But it only seemed to irritate the halovian further, and before he could finish, Sunday’s voice interrupted, filled with impatience and desire.
“Will you shut up and just breed me already—!” Sunday blurted out, the words leaving his mouth before he could think and realise what he was saying. It took him a second to process and the weight of what he had just said sunk in. The flush burning across his cheeks was now more because of embarrassment rather than arousal.
Gallagher blinked, then let out a low, amused laugh. “Well,” he murmured, leaning in close until his lips nearly brushed Sunday’s ear, “when you ask like that… how could I ever say no?” His voice dropped into a growl, one hand gripping Sunday’s hip. “I’ll give you exactly what you asked for, birdie. But don't regret it later.”
Sunday let out a shaky sigh, content when Gallagher finally started to glide his cock back and forth lazily between his slick folds. Each pass brought a fleeting graze against his clit, just enough to make his breath hitch and his body ache for more.
Any regret about what he said earlier vanished the moment the tip of Gallagher’s cock began to press in. He felt a soft burn as his cunt accommodated to Gallagher, making his body tense instinctively at the intrusion, the pressure building as the head slipped past the tight resistance—just enough to make his breath catch and his nails dig into the sheets beneath him. But the ache was welcomed, wanted, needed.
Sunday whined, hips bucking forward to try to get more of him inside his hungry hole. Gallagher only smiled, before he gripped Sunday’s legs and pushed them up toward his chest, in a position that had his body folded in half and vulnerable beneath him. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he buried himself completely—sinking to the hilt, the sudden fullness drawing a choked moan from Sunday.
Gallagher's gaze dropped to where their bodies met, mesmerized by the way Sunday’s slick heat clung to him. His fingers caressed the skin on the back of Sunday’s thighs, thumbs pressing into soft flesh as he leaned in close, voice rough and breathless while he muttered. “Look at how well your cunt swallows me…”
Gallagher only gave Sunday a short time to get used to his length inside before pulling back and slamming in again, setting a relentless, punishing rhythm each thrust rocking Sunday's body beneath him and sending jolts of pleasure through his core, leaving him breathless and shaking.
Instinctively his arms reached up to wrap themselves around Gallagher's shoulders, nails lightly digging into the skin under it as if to anchor himself. His voice came out shaken but commanding, laced with desperation and command. “Don’t you– ngh- you dare slow down… or s-stop…” he gasped, His eyes locking onto Gallagher’s with a look that only demanded more, not less
“You take cock like a dream,” Gallagher murmured, voice husky against Sunday’s ear. “Perhaps I should keep you right here—stuffed full on my cock until your pussy can't take anymore, until you're overflowing with everything I gave you—until you're bred.”
“Ah—Shut it, h-hound.” Sunday hissed, trying to sound defiant but with the tremble in his voice and the way his walls tightened around Gallagher's cock indicated otherwise. His body betrayed everything he was saying, letting the bartender know everything he wanted to.
“Call me by name would you?” Gallagher murmured, his thrusts slowing to a grind as he hovered close, eyes locked on Sunday’s face.
The response was almost instant—Sunday’s nails scratched down on Gallagher’s back as he gasped out, “G-Gallagher, please…” His voice trembled with need and desperation as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his release but the way Gallagher slowed down wasn't of any help.
“Such a desperate little thing.” He said, one of his hands leaving Sunday's legs to give his wing a little tug while restarting his punishing pace at the same time—aiming directly for the halovian's prostate.
Sunday threw his head back at the small pull his wing received. Each powerful thrusts slammed directly into his already oversensitive prostate, drawing out uncontrollable moans and making his body jerk.
“Ah… Please– Gallagher…” The halovian could feel the release of his orgasm just an inch away but for some reason he couldn't reach it. Fortunately Gallagher knew exactly what was missing and didn't wait a second to act.
“You're doing so well for me, good boy.” He mustered before sinking his teeth gently at the base of one of Sunday’s wings.
He didn't know if it was the praise or the bite but that was all it took for the halovian to come. Sunday's body convulsed beneath Gallagher and a broken cry tearing from his throat as his climax crashed through him.
“Ngh- Gallagher–” His mouth parted in a choked moan, eyes squeezed shut as the heat and pressure inside him finally snapped. Pleasure surged through every nerve, leaving his limbs trembling and his breath caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp.
Gallagher didn’t stop his thrusts as he guided Sunday through his orgasm, though they started to lose their rhythm with the way Sunday’s walls spasmed around him. It had Gallagher gritting his teeth, his own release fast approaching. Each desperate flutter of Sunday’s cunt milked him mercilessly, making it harder to hold back, his movements growing more erratic as he chased his own climax.
The image of Sunday completely undone—body trembling, mouth parted in bliss, and his inner walls gripping Gallagher with relentless pressure—was enough to push Gallgher over the edge. With a groan he buried himself one final time before his warmth filled Sunday’s inside.
Sunday let out a pleased hum as he felt Gallagher’s seeds spill in him, warmth spreading inside. The sensation of being loaded—like the way he wanted, sent a shiver through his body.
Gallagher regained his breath shortly, the haze from his climax starting to clear already. However when he looked down and saw that Sunday was still lost in the afterglow, mind still in a light fog he couldn't help but decide to tease him.
Gallagher carefully adjusted their positions, settling into a seated posture with Sunday now straddling his lap. As they shifted his length slightly slipped out for a moment before sliding fully back inside. The sensation made Sunday jolt slightly, a soft gasp escaping his lips as the stimulation seemed to snap him out of his haze in an instant.
“Give me a break first, you hound!” Sunday yelped, breath catching as he shot a sharp, accusing glare at Gallagher. The way the brunet only chuckled at his protest only irritated him further as it made it clear he wasn’t taking the demand too seriously.
“Already back to calling me like that, huh?” Gallagher whispered as he plastered Sunday neck with gentle kisses and occasionally sucking on the flushed skin, a total contrast to the treatment he gave between Sunday’s legs. “But sure, everything you'd like birdie.”